Vincent Price Hallowe'en Cookalong-The House on Haunted Hill & Calf's Liver Marinee.

All that scotch and not a vol-au-vent in sight.

 
 

Let’s hope there were throat lozenges on the catering table; all that screaming must have taken its toll. When I was growing up we observed Bonfire Night. We ate Yorkshire Parkin, watched Catharine Wheels go ‘round and threw bodies onto an open fire.  How To Stuff a Guy was even on the curriculum circa 1977.  What fun.

However, we’re not here to talk about Mr. Fawkes but something far more sinister-that of Vincent Price’s Calf’s Liver Marinee. Perfect remedy for all the dark, cold and rainy days we’ve been having.

 

 

After a night on Haunted Hill, a hearty portion of liver is precisely what the good doctor would have ordered. (But then look what happened to the good doctor.)  Every home needs a vat of acid in the basement.

 

 

 

Very pleased with the results; the slab of red meat turned into this.  The liver had a nice tanginess to it from the full day vinegar & oil bath.

 

 

For 4 persons:

1.5 pounds calf’s liver

Sprinkle of salt & pepper

3 slices bacon

2 slices pancetta

1 onion, sliced

1 TBSP vinegar

1 TBSP olive oil

¼ C red wine

Wrap liver in bacon and secure.  Sprinkle salt & pepper.  Place over sliced onions and pancetta. Marinate everything in vinegar and olive oil for 24 hrs.

Cook in a 325 oven for 1 hr.

Add wine and cook further 20 minutes.

 

We served the liver on a bed of butter, garlic & olive oil sautéed kale with lots of roast potatoes and pearl onions.

 

You could pair anything from a Sauvignon to a Gamay here, but we went with a Pelee Island Pinot Noir.

And because more chocolate is always a good thing, we finished with Double Chocolate Death’s Head cake with pumpkin cream filling.

 

 

Here’s hoping you all had fun with your menus.

Please check out the following for more Vincent Price Hallowe’en dishes.

SILVER SCREEN SUPPERS

 

 

 

 

Food, Father's Day & a Forty year old mini series.

 

Always a thrill to see your name in print.   In this case it was the Letters to the Editor. (Remember newspapers?)  Just a few lines but had to make my point.  When I see the logical road not taken, well…  Of course we have blogs and tweets to get our point across at any time of day or night and don’t have to wait for the approval of a senior editor. Although after perusing a few Twitter feeds this past week, you’re almost crying out for an editor.  I believe “train wreck” was the expression used in a recent interview.  Note to selves:  not everything has to make the journey from the brain to the keyboard.  That aside, there are some little gems out there.  Two noted tweets from this week:  getting home to find a magazine waiting for you in the mailbox (akin to an Xmas card instead of the usual bill) and the quiet Spring we’ve been having without the constant hum of air conditioners.  Amen (says the atheist).

In between bouts of what could only be described as some freak avian flu, I cobbled together letters to the editor, Food Pen Pal (FPP)packages, letters of complaint and of course Father’s Day (FD) festivities.   I may be heading down the road of some Talking Heads character-drafting one letter after another in search of a reader.  It is important to compliment others at the same time; don’t just offer up criticism.  If you see a job well done, let someone know.

FD prep began weeks ago-pick a theme, find four courses and pairings. The FPP didn’t take as long but I was faced with catering to a vegetarian and fish was off the menu.  Returned on more than one occasion to the drawing board.  Discovered my first item had fish in it so I ate it- tears streaming down my face; sinus cavity burnt out from the heat of the chilis.



Father's Day Shopping

First of two searches began in earnest; raspberry sugar for the FPP.  Fascinating introduction to product placement.  Where are Fortinos keeping their sugars?  Why, in the fresh meat section, of course. Who would have thought?  Baking aisle? Yes.   Salt & sugars? Yes.  But, not sausages.  I asked for some rationalization; none was forthcoming from the department manager.  At another location of same chain, the very idea of flavoured sugar was balked at.  I need sound and video to properly do justice to the comment I received.

Here is SOME INSPIRATION for the next time you’re struggling to come up with a menu.  Key thing is a sharp knife; you’ll be chopping for a bit of time.  (Still getting the hang of my mandoline).  All in all I think things turned out very well.  Who knew lettuce could be so filling?  Finished up with a menu of:

 

~Asian Mary

~Thai Lettuce Wraps

~Miso Soup w/ dumpling

~Japanese Curry

~Indian rice pudding

 
I did cheat on the soup.  Lost the Chinese Soup recipe and although you really cannot go wrong with this (it’s 90% chicken stock) I wanted to compare notes.  The pudding took 2 ½ hours to cook but it’s something you throw in a pan and let simmer away.  Did finish with a cappuccino.  Where was the chai or green tea, you ask?  Took a great chance on the coffee as it was Sunday night and loading up on caffeine at 20:00 could have been dangerous.  I lamented the looming work week.  The Pater was unsympathetic.  Brilliant Dilbert cartoon this week.  Dilbert is exercising in his cubicle hoping to beat the system by living long enough to enjoy at least two years retirement after forty long years under the watchful gaze of Big Brother.  Just hoping the government hasn’t pushed the retirement age further along; they’ve already added two.  Such a lack of holidays in this country.  We are third behind the US and Japan. UGH.  Let’s have some personal days, at least-my gutters and windows aren’t going to clean themselves!  Surely it’s time we moved to the four day week?  How can we be expected to recharge our battery?

Squeezed in a day off last week.  A fine “start” to the day with Tom Allan in the broadcast chair.  Trying to stream the broadcast is futile and wrestling with the clock radio is like trying to tune in a BBC world service broadcast from deep within the rain forest.  Despite my earlier sarcasm, I picked up this week’s rapid read, Apartment Therapy, because it’s like a little itch that has to be scratched.  What more could be added to this subject? I was curious.  As it turns out, not much more could be added, however, if you’re looking for some fluff for back yard reading then by all means read away.  Of course, I’m reading Trollope at the moment and a heavy duty tome it is.

While at library central, I spied a copy of Edward VII. Thirteen episodes of glorious British costume drama, circa 1973.  Never having had the chance to see it the first time ‘round, I am diligently plowing through it now.  Youthful faces abound- Felicity Kendall, Nigel Havers, Francesca Annis, Charles Dance, Derek Fowlds, Annette Crosbie and a cast of thousands.  It’s actually a good companion to the Trollope.  What a cow Victoria has been! Interesting to see how little things change with our own dear monarchy.  The wayward Prince Harry partying it up and having to take a scolding just like Bertie did.

Queen Vic in downtown Hamilton...

 

Back to the grind, but oh how nice to have the weekend close by.  I medicated with coffee but it had no effect.  Lethargy! Awoke Friday to the Toronto chief of Police grilling; interrogation on Rob Ford Watch.  I was driven close to madness tracking down the second product on my list, wasabi powder;  essential ingredient in the Asian Bloody Mary.  Naturally, it was on the door step the whole time.  Never underestimate your local health food store.  Wasabi was found not in the Asian, bulk or spice aisles, no;  it was practically in the pastry racks.  Is there any wonder I get confused? 

Like Thursday, I started Father’s Day with a little piano-the 26 yr old virtuoso, Yuja Wang.  Very nicely done.  Four hours of prep ahead; it's all chopping and slicing. Dinner took five hours to consume and The Pater remarked that the time flew by.  Food and beverage was enjoyed by all.  But what of the clean up?  The less said about this the better. And I’d like to know how all these food bloggers cope with dish after dish in their micro kitchens.  

 

Day three of leftovers, but oh what tasty leftovers! I think all the fish sauce is affecting my brain-long, vivid dreams; restless nights.  Coupled with the fierce allergy symptoms, it's a wonder I'm standing.  Apparently an untidy home is good for allergy sufferers like myself.  Dust mites can't get comfortable so there's less of them.

Burning off the dinner in the garden.  “They” keep calling for rain but we’ve had a glorious few days.   The rabbit population is growing and we are now playing host to a chipmunk.  The rabbit has moved on to shrubbery; making a fine meal of the Sand Cherry.  The Widget Maker is starting a garden and is looking for some tips; I think a separate post on easy gardening is in order.

What’s blooming now?

 Maltese Cross...

Oenothera...

Gallardia...

 

 

 

Campanula...

 

Summer due in just a few hours and we have been promised 25C.  (Thought is was Friday already-it is not; very disappointed with reality.) Off to start work on the next menu.  July 1^st is close and there is a dinner and brunch to prepare. Tick tock, tick tock.

Defending Brunch

Do I really need to defend my decision to spend four hours on brunch?  Was it four or eight or eighteen?  Regardless, one should never have to justify taking a leisurely meal.  And I think last Sunday went rather well.
 

I unearthed last August's BAN BRUNCH (BANBRUNCHBLOG) by Alexander Nazaryan in which he calls for an end to brunch.  Mr. Nazaryan speaks specifically of the Sunday Brunch that takes place outside the home.  Nazaryan feels that we, humankind, could be so much more if we could just stop eating and drinking for nigh on four hours on a Sunday afternoon.  There was a call for a rational mind to reconsider brunch’s place in society.

I firmly believe in brunch (and leisurely breakfasts).  This afternoon delight can take place in your own home, too.  We have observed several versions of brunch.  Xmas, Easter, the Saturday leisurely paced/sausage laced.  The menu is not important.  We have run the gamut from the ubiquitous Eggs Benedict to Kedgeree to the Full Monty.

For your next brunch menu, please see BRUNCH 

Nazaryan’s argument is that our time could be better spent enlightening ourselves and others; better spent exercising the little grey cells, n’est pas?  I would counter that Brunch allows precisely this and that we are better off from having spent a few hours in conversation, observation or quiet contemplation.

Brunch may be the best thing you've eaten all week.  It may be the only time you've allowed yourself to ingest properly all week. Are you a ten-minuter? Do you balance the juice and toast on the bathroom vanity?  The soap and shaving foam adding another layer of taste? Do you swig coffee on the way to work?

Do you read the newspaper or scan? (Do people still read newspapers? I'm the only one in my neighbourhood.) Do you listen to your morning show? Really listen?  Do you stop to look out of the window? Do you linger at the window?  Try brunch.  It goes well with all of the above.  Do you share your thoughts with other beings? Conversation can be challenging when you are running around looking for that matching sock.
 
Ultimately, I don’t care what others bring to the brunch table, food or conversation wise.  The rush of the work week may mean you’ve exhausted your conversations cards.  David MacFarlane, who has been mentioned in these pages before, suggested doing just one thing at a time and eating may be that one thing.  Do you think you can?   Don't consider what you could/should be doing.  Focus on this one thing. Can you allow yourself a guilt free meal?

What is the gain from Sunday's brunch?   I learned to cook something new. I've expanded my culinary horizons. I supported the local economy. I educated the staff at the local LCBO on where to find product on their store shelves. No, the product line has not been discontinued. If you have yet to introduce yourself to Niagara wines, now is the time.  Apparently the Chinese love Ice Wine.  But, please don't buy the knock off; it contains glycol. Shudder. I learned how birds defend themselves against one another.  I got caught up on family matters, the state of European football, gardening tips.  I listened to The Sunday Edition in its entirety. People watching? Of course.  I felt good because I had managed to cut the grass and the neighbours just don't quite seem able to manage it. The whole experience was a great start to the day.

"So what?" you ask.

Brunch results in a healthy mindset.  A healthy mind results in a healthy body thus a more productive member of society. Psychology 101. The more productive you are, the less guilt about taking time out to eat, the more you can indulge in brunch! 

Lessons that could be applied in the workplace, no?  But, that’s another post.

 

If the Ice Storm doesn't get my tulips, this will...

Waiting since October for the bulbs.  They are up and this creature is treating the garden like its own private buffet.  I wonder what goes well with rabbit?




my nemesis-it looks innocent, but...

 

just the right size for rabbit casserole

 



flame-like tulip tips

 

the daffs

Culture & Recreation-January

Rob Ford Watch was in full swing Friday. Kept an ear open to the morning show. Update came at 10:30   Ruling overturned. Alas. Cheaper than a by-election, I suppose. After the kerfuffle, settled into the afternoon with a little Bach. We do seem to take a lot of trouble pronouncing his name whereas we don't bother with anyone else.  Why is that? How many ways can you say Bach?

The only conversation was hockey so I amused myself with the bird that had landed in the tree.  I had been on the hunt for a pheasant and the usual sources no longer carried any kind of game bird.  In fact the young lad at the deli counter had no idea what I was talking about.  "A what?"  Then later, "What was it you called it again?"  Most amusing.  The plump bird in the tree may just have met my needs.  Cumbrae Meats to the rescue, though.  A fine butcher shop and we are fortunate to have one of their three locations right here in Hamilton.  It's unusual to go into raptures about a butcher shop but this one's rather nice.  Beautifully presented product; good quality.

A few cm's of snow fell Friday PM and surprisingly the traffic was moving.  It is customary to travel at top speeds of 60-70kmh when the flakes fall.  Easy to spot those without snow tyres.  Over to the other side of town to get the bird.  I behaved and didn't stop for cappuccino, chocolate dipped spun toffee nor Pad Thai.  However, Chef & Wife did have their mango shrimp on so picked up a portion for the fridge.  Shopping frenzy getting the rest of the menu. Some shelves bare and prices on the rise due to the arctic conditions south of the border.  Expecting a better Niagara Ice Wine harvest this year.

The more you can do towards dinner now the less the next day.  Simple philosophy.   Cafe de Paris prep began in earnest. Opportunity finally presented itself to take down the Xmas tree. I have had my detractors; keeping the tree up has been a bit of a hard sell.  I've enjoyed it.  Thought to tarp it, fully decorated, and drag it out to the shed until December. 
 

 

 

Mysteries of what appears to be complex cooking revealed.  No complexity to it at all.  Simple is good.  On this week's menu:

Aperitif~Cafe de Paris

scallops in white wine

pheasant with chestnut sauce

chocolate pots
cheese plate

Vin~Pouilly Fume
 

Will be posting all the details a little later at:   CAFE DE PARIS

["And for the rest of them, we'll have a large trough of baked beans, garnished with a couple of dead dogs." John Cleese (Fawlty Towers)]

CBC's Ideas for Friday evening.  Artists in Residence at the Glenfiddich distillery in Scotland.  This particular episode focused on Jillian McDonald.  Every year the Distillery pays to have artists in residence and this is one of many that Ms. McDonald  has received.  Her previous projects include a Billy Bob Thornton  which defies description here but I will include the link to do it better justice Valley of the Deer   One distillery past project includes a special batch of single malt that will be aging, I believe, 100 years.  The project is a sort of treasure hunt to actually find where this special batch is hidden.  And even with all this talk of single malt, I failed to raise a glass to Robbie Burns. Tsk. Tsk.

Felt somewhat obligated to pay attention to Canadian politics again with the pending Premiership vote Saturday.  How long did this take?  An agonizing length of time.  So far so good on not focusing on Wynne's sexual orientation.  Think she entertained one question on the subject.

Set off Sunday to clear the gremlin behind the eyes.  Thought to finish the trail but first meandered through farm country. A little overcast and cold.  Found Edwards Cemetery dating from 1853.  It's surrounded by nothing but fields for miles.  Desolation and silence.  Reminded me of the Carol Shields novel Swann.  Things going on in farmhouses and nobody on the outside knows because of the isolation. 

Sinking headstones; a few crumbling ones. A young boy over in the far corner.

 

 

Silence until a little man on a bicycle came along the road collecting tin cans.  Thought it was a kid on a skateboard-it had that sound.  The collector was in fact crushing the cans.  Seemed like an awful lot of cans in the ditches. Cold!  Didn't feel a hike was going to happen.  Off to Haldimand through Blackheath.  Doubled back on Chippewa to Tyneside then #65. 

The middle tree looks vaguely human.  Very Wizard of Oz.

 

 

 

 

Pleasantly surprised to find work continuing on the Unity Road portion of the Chippewa Trail.  The gate was closed and not one, not two, but three earth movers sat idle on the path for the weekend.  Old railway ties were piled up ready for removal.

 

Over to Haldibrook Rd.  The pile of asphalt I mentioned last time has disappeared.  The site looks much better.  Passed by the other side of the Killman Zoo.  The alpacas were feeding; they looked rather comfortable in their coats.

 

 

 

Skaters and hockey players out on the Binbrook ponds.

 

 



 

This is a curious house that I often drive by.  Like its shape and the Widow's Walk.

 

Home to defrost.  Got an update on the Cheez Whiz shipment to Silver Screen Suppers . Jars arrived intact and a successful casserole was prepared; recipe provided by Mr. Francis of Caker Cooking  Well done,  everyone.

   

Finished up the day with the first part of Bennet's Smut. Bennet is partial to pheasant, too.

 

 

 

Culture & Recreation-The Xmas Edition

Thinking of taking last Friday's frenzy right through to the New Year.   Never venture to the mall after Nov 30th.  I've been traumatized ever since Canadian Black Friday when I went out for Movember chocolate moustaches. Chaos.  And I wasn't anywhere near the mall.  This time I was sans gloves and you can just imagine what I must have come into contact with.  Was it smart to do this on the eve before a Christmas party?  No. Who in their right mind uses a communal pen at the Post Office and then eats lunch? Tells you something about the state of my mind.

More shopping for Xmas treats.  And before anyone takes exception to my using an X instead of Christ, the X is a perfectly acceptable substitute.  Dust of your Britannica and look it up.  Xmas cakes were on tap this weekend and after perusing the latest Hamilton giving the milk chocolate and sea salt covered bacon a whirl.  Salted bacon? Yes, because clearly bacon needs more salting.  The cakes are a 48 hr project and care and attention must be paid.  Prepped the kitchen, sedated myself with a little Horlicks and somehow lost track of three hours which I still can't account for. Did the martini(s) have anything to do with it?

1. Fry bacon
2. For every pan of bacon, save one slice for yourself for snacking purposes
3. Prepare bacon and eggs while you wait for subsequent batches to cook
4. Drain & cool what's left
5. Melt milk chocolate
6. Drizzle over cooled bacon
7. Sprinkle with sea salt
8. Chill
9. Resist temptation to eat

Saturday. Took a very civilized breakfast; a little pate and baguette to start the day.  Dave had presented Morley with a decorated pear tree; one of my favourite stories.   Took about three hours to mobilize as the cold symptoms had materialized overnight. No choice but to snooze. Eventually left for the downtown core; four hours before dinner. 
 
If you remember my last trip downtown, I was laid low afterwards with some kind of plague. Wanted to do a little reconnaissance.  With one-way systems, no on-street parking and lane closures, a little tour of the neighbourhood is advised if you want to get to dinner on time.  We were headed to Seven Windows at Aberdeen & Dundurn.  I can confirm that there is no sign on the front door; no neon "OPEN" to guide you in off the street nor is there any parking signage  Found a small lot but wanted a back up plan in case it was full come dinner hour.  Seven Windows is a restaurant and lounge located in a converted bank; there is a vault available for private dinners.

Whirlwind tour of the library; took the stairs-only exercise this week.  No fourth or fifth floor anymore.  Well, no books on those floors anymore.  On tap this week are Douglas Coupland's Highly Inappropriate Tales for Young Children, Emma Donoghue's Room and Sarah Selecky's This Cake Is For the Party-short stories.  From last month, I'm recommending Naked by David Sedaris-short stories; funny stuff.  Also, two plays; Marion Bridge by Daniel MacIvor-should take you a couple of bathroom breaks to read (now on dvd if you can't be bothered reading) and Belle Moral by Anne Marie McDonald (at Shaw a few years back).  How to describe this one?  Think it's best if you just read it.       

Usual cast of characters on the drive down.  Most striking was the woman in zebra striped pants and fur coat.  Will I go bold with the wardrobe as I enter the late middle age?  Read a piece the other day which discussed the idea that, never mind age 65, you become invisible at 25.  So most people will think you're just batty and ignore you when you pop to the store in your funky boots and leopard prints. Or, they just won't see you at all.

Had time for a quick visit to the Art Gallery~AGH-Napoleon.  From the first room, painted a regal red, Napoleon comes off as something of a rock star.  Long, flowing tresses and baby face features.  His signet ring, snuff box, watch and hat are on display.  Napoleon controlled every aspect of his reign and I started to think of our beloved Mr. Harper.  (I bet Napoleon's hair didn't move either.)  There's lots on display-paintings, dinner ware, beds, and a very fine gold toothbrush.  Will return when I have a little more leisure.  Runs 'til May.

Finally reached an age when no one calls to ask what you're wearing. Sandwiched myself into something that wasn't a Little Black Dress. Ah, the miracle of Lycra.  Telemarketer at 17:00  At this time of day?

Despite the earlier reconnaissance, I missed the restaurant and drove 'round the block to double back.  As I said, no signage.  Good vodka martini. Started with the chicken liver pate which was precisely the right temperature; served with crispbreads and onion relish.  Followed this with soup-Indian with apple.  Very tasty.  At last, a restaurant that doesn't serve shrimp cocktail with red seafood sauce! Excellent presentation with everything.

Venison for mains-tender slices served on top of sweet potato, carrot, beet, sprout and chutney.  Everyone enjoyed their mains which varied from halibut to chicken to lamb to filet.   Nearly poached my neighbour's potato-apparently, they don't "do" potato. Theirs came cooked in chicken fat which sounded rather tasty to me.  Seemed a shame to waste them.

Pastry choices were Pavlova, Ice Wine creme brulee, flourless chocolate torte (which met with rave reviews) amongst others.

Now the only fly in the ointment is the service.  Overall, service was fine, but it lacked the full attentiveness you would expect with this kind of restaurant.  Is the water glass empty?  Is the wine glass empty?  A dessert menu that includes digestifs would be nice so you can take your time ruminating over the course and not left guessing at what's behind the bar.  And worse, in one case, having to accompany the server to the bar to have a look at the whiskey choices.  Overall, it deserves a second go 'round to see if this is the norm or were they having an off night?

I had the privilege of chauffeuring the younger crowd back into town.  And where did they pick from all the choices?  Hess Village.  Now apart from lunch a couple of years back, the Village isn't somewhere you'd venture past the age of twenty-five.  It's full of micro skirt /platform shoe clad girls who look identical to one another and men in baggy pants, the occasional woolly hat and loose fitting shirt or hoodie.  They spill out onto the road at 2:15, blood coursing with liquor.  A fight or two ensues, police are called and it starts all over again next weekend.  Time was the village was a good spot for the thirty-five plus crowd.  It was home to the annual Jazz Fest.  Great music, good pubs, good food.  Slowly, the nineteen year olds took over.  Pubs became clubs and it went to pot(no doubt literally in some cases). 

For people watching however, you can't go wrong.  There is a Hortons on the corner and it's a good spot for watching the aftermath if you don't want to venture onto the cobblestones. The fascinating world of the under 25's.  Took our place at the side of the stage of The Lazy Flamingo.  We stood out like the proverbial thumb-dressed in our suits, dress and overcoats. The Great Divide were in mid set.  Divide was a fairly accurate name as two of them looked as if they'd just walked out of an early incarnation of Joy Division and the other two out of a commune, circa 1970.  They split the set between originals and Hendrix, Lynrd Skynrd and so on.  The band did a great job and if anyone knows of a good hearing specialist, drop me a line.

One of our party ventured to the WC but no one else went in after he reported back on the conditions.  As 2 AM approached, panic set in with the natives;  like closing time at Club 54.  There was a woman of about fifty chatting up the guys.  One was mortified that someone of her "advanced" years should choose someone like him.  They have yet to stare to death in the face and think they're going to live forever.  She eventually found herself a "dance partner" who was about twenty years her junior and, once again, we had to get the oxygen out for the young lads.

Sunday. Having gotten home at 3AM, was in no mood to tackle Stage One of "The Cake" and was a little delicate for most of the day.  Listened to Tapestry and a interview with the winner of Most Eloquent Person of the Year.  Oh to be so calm and collected.  Must find her name. Somehow found enough drive to prepare dinner for The Pater.  In my stupor, I neglected to add a critical ingredient and it took about 24hrs to figure out what it was.

Out to another game of minor league hockey with the five year olds.  Had been a few weeks since the last game and there was marked improvement in the skating.  Was that strategy at play? Thought there might have been a gas leak at one point; turns out to have been my seat mate's Bits & Bites snack pack. 

Monday. Challenging day.  In my defence, the whole nation is down with some kind of flu or cold.  Don't think my lack of health had anything to do with Saturday night.  Oh, how the hours dragged.  Cake making, Phase 1,  and then bed.

 

Tuesday. A blur. Cake making, Phase 2. I dosed myself with the juice of three lemons, honey and many cups of herbal tea. 

And finally, Wednesday mid morning tea break. Very pleased with the results. A moist Xmas cake; no doorstops here. Put the recipe in your arsenal. See below.

What’s in the VCR this week?  Xmas chestnuts, of course. Watching them on the portable, I might add.  Oh, the humanity!  Bill Paterson in Comfort and Joy (1984).  A Glaswegian disc jockey finds himself as the go between  of two rival gangs of ice cream merchants.   A Child’s Christmas in Wales with Denholm Eliot (1987 adaptation from Dylan Thomas), A Muppet Christmas with Michael Caine and A Christmas Story-don’t think this one needs any explaining.

Don’t forget to try Soulpepper’s A Christmas Carol.  It’s running until December 29^th.

Onwards and upwards with the holidays; the idea is to have as little to do on “the day” as possible while at the same time maintaining sanity before hand.

(Editor’s Note:  That's what President’s Choice is for. Just give me a great big basket of Black Label goodies.)

And so Dear Reader, a very happy and healthy holiday to you.  Enjoy yourself. 

 

Edible Xmas Cake (good brunch partner)

Apricots, prunes, currants, cherries, figs; chopped to make 2 CUPS

1 CUP sherry, port or other
 

2/3 C unsalted butter

1 C Demerera sugar

2 eggs + 1 yolk
1 TSP vanilla

1C flour
1 TSP baking powder

1 TSP salt

½ TSP cinnamon
½ TSP nutmeg
1/8 tsp ground cloves

1 TSP lemon zest

 

Day One 

Heat sherry; add chopped fruit and simmer 10 mins.  Let stand for 24hrs. 

 

Day Two 

In mixer combine: butter, sugar; add eggs one at a time; add vanilla;  combine dry ingredients and add to egg mixture; add zest & bake 375C for 45 minutes in well buttered and floured loaf pan.

 

Does Star Wars count as a Christmas activity?

Ah, the intoxicating aromas of the Bulk Barn(BB).  Well, intoxicating is perhaps too strong a word for the spice section of a bulk food store.  Does wonders for the car; more natural than Febreeze.

I had pored (no pun intended) over the latest Food & Drink and decided on the Ginger cake.  Who amongst us doesn't covet the Food & Drink Holiday edition?  You've got to time it right, though.  Visit the LCBO too early or too late in the season and the shelves are bare.  Lunch hour run to the BB to stock up for the Christmas cake(I have an edible version), the pistachio and cranberry bars and truffles amongst other things.  The Widget Makers are partial to sweets and one feels the obligation to take their mind off the inevitable noon hour Subway sandwich. 

The BB is a black hole and a labour intensive one at that.  I emerged with the notion that I still had a half hour to indulge in the much sought after burger. "A burger?", you ask.  Not to be, as the hour had gone.  I went in for $2.00 worth of product and wound up with a trunk load.  Finished up consuming a partially cooked baked potato slathered in bacon marmalade and Parmesan.  Questionable choice.

For the first time in nigh on six weeks, I felt sufficiently revived to contemplate the painting, baking and tree trimming.  The Pater was scheduled for Sunday dinner and I couldn't look at the replastered wall any longer.  Perhaps if the GP had actually allowed me take an appointment, this whole farce with the eyes would not have taken so long.  Next time, I'm storm-troopering in there.  Self control be damned.

Delivered the neighbours' cards in the evening.  They looked at me puzzled and questioned why I was delivering Xmas cards on December 7th.  It is customary to graciously accept cards and not question the sender's motive/time of season.  Not here.  You have to tread carefully with "first generation".  I believe they send theirs on Xmas Eve. I like to get my money's worth.   Xmas cards are a dying art.  I like seeing a red, green or silver envelope in the mail box. Refreshing to open something that isn't a bill.  To the grocery store again and returned with a tray of sushi which was very nicely done. I'm on a Mike Leigh bent at the moment.  Picked up Mike Leigh on Mike Leigh a couple of weeks back.  Leigh dissects all his movies with the interviewer and it's been good revisiting them after the read.  Finished the day with Leigh's Vera Drake. An outstanding period drama with Imelda Staunton.

I detest painting but having gotten started again after a six year hiatus, have the drive to continue with the remaining rooms.  I can sleep at night now; not that fitful tossing and turning, waking with a cold sweat as the mind turns over the TO DO list.  I like to work with a small sponge roller-control is what you're after here.  Use a large one and next thing you're painting ceilings and baseboards and where does it end? The bottom of a large bottle of red wine.  Try and see if you can find a podcast for This Is My Music on CBC.  Ivars Taurin's turn and he presented a very fine selection of music.  Just the thing to ease into the day.

Ventured into the crawl space to get the tree. Germaphobes don't handle dark, dusty spaces well.  In fact I'm getting heart palpitations as I write this.  Putting less and less on the tree each year.  Thinking more in terms of keeping clean lines than sheer lack of ambition.  Remember, it's all got to come down again.

Finished the night with Leigh's Naked.  Raw would be a good word to describe this movie. I've seen it many times. If you're looking for laughs, this is not your movie, but I think you need to enter the world of Mr. Leigh once in a while.

Found just enough counter space next morning to make a cup of tea.  Vinyl Cafe was in holiday mode with a repeat of the Hawksley Workman show; saw it live last year.  Second time seeing Workman live.  If you have the opportunity to see  The Vinyl Cafe  or any of his guests in concert, do so.

A clipper was forecast and thought it prudent to make a start.  For the uninitiated, a ginger cake batter performs a little differently than your typical Duncan Crocker.  It doesn't flow out of the bowl into the cake pans; you have to drag it out, kicking and screaming.  A ginger batter will not self-distribute in the pan.  You have to do it for it.  Finally smacking the tins on the counter five or six times to cancel air pockets.  How do you now if this has been successful?  You don't.  It's a matter of faith.  This is a well seasoned cake-ginger, nutmeg, cinnamon, allspice, black pepper, cloves and is great for a miserable rainy day, like Sunday.

 

The frosting was a dismal failure and I'm sure, with time, I'll come to understand what went wrong.  It's butter and icing sugar-how difficult could it be? The icing has separated from the buttery mass and remains to this day, a sticky pool in the bottom of the bowl.

Soup was successful and I recommend this if for no other reason than the garnish.  Lemon juice, garlic, paprika, olive oil.  Dress the soup with a generous amount of cheese, garnish and parsley.  See below for recipes.

The Pater is partial to pastry(alliteration, anyone?). Why do we wait ‘til Xmas Eve before cracking open the nuts and pastry trays?  If you narrow the season down to 1.5 days, you’re depriving yourself.  Forced a small Ceaser at cocktail hour; celery nice and crisp.  (Note to hosts: please peel your celery.  Who wants to see guests trying to discreetly retrieve a string of celery from their back molars?) What else but grilled cheese with the soup ? Try to elevate the lowly grilled cheese to new heights.  Get creative.  And don't wait 'til you're hungry to start any cooking.

Coffee finished and the Pater took his leave. It was time to wrap up the Xmas correspondence.  Had taken an espresso after dinner and the energy level was running high. 
Flashback to Fall 2011.
Finally watched the Star Wars saga from start to finish. Yes, I found the rock quite comfortable, thank-you very much.

Went to see Star Wars in '77 and stopped there; never going back to complete the saga. Since that day, caught bits and pieces of it at the holidays, but it is simply not possible to sit through the commercials.

It would be a gross understatement to say that the Widget Maker is a fan. Deeming their Star Wars dvd collection surplus to requirements with the acquisition of Blu-Ray, I came into possession of the series.  I diligently sat through every movie, having momentary deja vu from the glimpses I'd seen every Christmas. I steadied myself and completed my education.

And then comes along Camille Paglia, who feels that George Lucas is the greatest living artist of the modern era. Revenge of the Sith as high art? Paglia recently released her book Glittering Images and during the writing process, was undecided as to its conclusion. Was there any modern art that was worthy of her final chapter? Apparently so.  Paglia was blown away by Sith.

I'm partial to Rembrandt. To consider Lucas' output high art might be a bit of a stretch. 
And so, high on the lingering paint fumes and helped along by the espresso, I popped Sith back into the machine for another look.  I focused primarily on the final two chapters. The movie has a very Gothic feel and the music added to this.   The landscapes throughout the series were reminiscent of Bosch.  Is computer-generated work art?  David Hockney would say, yes.  Although I don't know what he thinks of Lucas.  Should Lucas be crowned king?  I would argue, no.    There isn't consistency throughout the movie (or series).  Flashes of genius are not enough to claim the crown.  Was I blown away, like Paglia?  No.  Perhaps Star Wars was too new for her? I think most people were surprised someone of Paglia's ilk deigned to watch.  (I do like when Vader gets fitted with his helmet and we hear that first breath.)  Perhaps I'll take another look with the next round of caffeine.

The movie aside, I don't think we need to place people at the bottom or the top. We are entering that dangerous time of year-the ubiquitous Top 10 List.

Bleak mornings these past few days and the only thing getting me out of bed was the lure of a little piece of ginger cake after breakfast.  Presented a plateful to the Widget Makers and they promptly inhaled it.  What's etiquette on the last piece on the plate?  If you are mere moments away from dining out at lunch, do you take the piece or leave it for someone else who isn't eating lunch?  In this case the piece disappeared.  But, this takes me into a whole other post.

Until next time.

Ginger Cake-Holiday 2012

3 cups flour

1 TBSP baking powder
½ TSP baking soda
2 TBSP ginger
2 TSP cinnamon
1 TSP allspice, nutmeg, black pepper
½ tsp ground cloves & salt
1 C butter
½ cups brown sugar
3 eggs
½ cup fancy molasses
1 C milk

Blend first nine ingredients.

Beat butter, adding sugar until well combined; add egg; add molasses.
Add ¼ flour mix, followed by ¼ milk until all combined.

Coax the batter into pans. Smooth surfaces.   Bang pans on counter to remove air pockets.

Bake 40 mins at 325C.

 

Cauliflower & Potato Soup-Holiday 2012

Recipe not terribly essential here. Go with your instincts. This is soup, after all.

1 diced onion

1 stalk celery
1 head cauliflower
3 potatoes (any)
1 TBSP butter and oil of choice
1 clove garlic
1 litre chicken stock

Garnish

2 TBSP olive oil

1 TBSP lemon juice
1 clove garlic
1 ½ TSP paprika

grated cheese (any)

chopped parsley

Dice vegetables; sautee a few minutes; add stock; boil and then simmer ‘til tender.

Stir garnish ingredients.
Add  cheese to soup bowl, drizzle with oil mixture; top with parsley.

Hearty soup and a very tasty drizzle.