Bake with abandon!
I always assumed sugarplums were plum-shaped candies made of marzipan and dusted in sugar. When I asked friends and family for their theories, guesses ranged from holiday jellies to booze-soaked prunes. We had never seen, let alone tasted one. To us, these Christmas confections existed only in Clement Clarke Moore’s poem …
When I first saw the The Dirty Apron Cookbook by David Roberston (Figure 1 © 2014), I wanted to run home and make the ravioli pictured on the front cover. They looked rustic enough to give me hope, yet exuded artisanal confidence. I knew they wouldn’t disappoint. Besides, …
These are some of the ingredients that go into what my husband calls “That Orange Beef Stew Thing You Make.” I call it Braised Beef with Orange and Tarragon but who am I to quibble? He likes it. I like it. Our guests like it. …
Be careful what you wish for. Earlier I begged for sunshine, and lots of it, as I gobbled blood oranges as fast as I could peel them. I should have specified “with warm temperatures.” Mother Nature granted my request— in letter, not spirit. For the …
This month’s Canadian Food Experience Project focuses on resolutions. I could have used my culinary bucket list as my contribution, but I don’t do proper resolutions and felt this was a bit of a cheat. Then I rethought things. I’ve been wearing blinkers. The word “resolution” …
This improv recipe is a testament to my impulse shopping, poor sense of timing and the power of the common cold. Impulse shopping: A few months ago, I found fresh Cornish hens at the butcher shop. As I stood at the meat counter waiting to …
In my early teens, I had a brief but passionate flirtation with tinned Bean with Bacon soup. My mom, like a sensible parent, didn’t try to talk me out of my crush. She figured I’d eventually come to my senses, and let me ride things …
Fool me once, shame of you. Fool me twice (a dozen times), shame, shame, double-shame on me. It took years, but I learned my lesson. No Newspaper Recipes. None. Do not clip them for me. I will throw them out. Do not make them for …
I seriously miscalculated the potato requirement for last night’s dinner. Maybe I was distracted by the dishwasher that kept telling me the intake/drain needed my attention. Maybe I got a little pre-occupied trying to remember where I had hidden Andrew’s birthday present. Either way, I …