domicile

The End of Food || The Beginning of Gardening

I've been on a bit of a reading tear lately and just finished The End of Food by Thomas F. Pawlick. Most of what I've been reading lately has been non-fiction and most of it has been relatively light and easy going. While The End of Food is a pretty accessible read, it definitely isn't light. However, at the risk of sounding like an overly earnest high school English teacher: this is a very important book. As a well educated, vegetarian, garden-loving, corporate sceptic and general political lefty I didn't think I had too much left to learn about the dangers and evils of the industrial food industry. Sadly, I was wrong. What is going on in the land of our food stuffs is horrifying enough that I found myself on two separate occassions unable to hold back tears while reading it on my bus ride home. That said, I'll repeat this is a very important read. And, I'll give the author plenty of extra credit for including a healthy section at the end on what the newly riled up and horrified reader can do to create positive change. While I strongly suggest that you go out and get yourself a copy -- but steal yourself for some really nasty stuff, particularly if you're an animal lover or tomato lover for that matter -- I'll share the biggest source of hope that Pawlick includes in the book with y'all here (I don't think he'd mind): plant a garden. Any kind of garden. Anywhere. Just plant it. Of course, he gets into more detail than that but really that's the big message. As I sat turning various shades of green or sniffing back tears in bed at night reading this Martin kept asking me if his "solution" was to eat an organic vegetarian diet and despite the fact that I am all for an organic vegetarian diet I'm pleased to say that isn't his answer. He leans more towards the eat local and for heaven's sake plant some tomatoes school of thought, which I can really get behind.

Suffice it to say that by the end of the book I was more than invigorated for the gardening season ahead. And in fact I feel like I've had my West Coast temperate climate knuckles duly smacked in terms of winter planting. Next year: escarole, kale, cabbages and more will fill my winter garden. Mark my words. No excuses. My West Coast Seeds catalogue finally came in the mail and I've been thumbing through it with glee. And lucky for me this Saturday is Seedy Saturday at Van Dusen gardens where you'll find me trolling for all seeds heritage and hearty. I've also got some delusions about serious garden expansion for the purpose of trying my hand at some major hard bean cultivation and possibly some barley, but that will require a chat with Martin and some serious time with a shovel.

A Simple Indulgence

The convergence of two events led me to spend a glorious morning in the kitchen baking from my new (acquired at Christmas) Donna Hay Modern Classics 2 Cookbook: this evening we have friends coming by for dinner and in honour of our 7th anniversay in business I get to play hooky from work today. Huzzah!

Of all the many, many cookbooks I own and cherish I have very little in the way of solid dessert recipes. I had put that particular Donna Hay cookbook on my list because most of the cookbooks I have lean toward the healthy/vegetarian/vegan variety and tend to lack in offering up a real depth of choice in the way of treats built primarily around the trinity of indulgent ingredients: butter, flour and sugar. Prior to meeting Martin, I had never actually used a Donna Hay cookbook, though I had often admired their simple layouts and stunning photography, but he brought one into my cookbook library when we moved in together and while I still haven't made full use of it I have always really enjoyed anything I've pulled out of there.

One of the aspects of Donna Hay recipes that I really enjoy is their simplicity. Typically they use very few ingredients, favouring instead an approach that lets fresh simple ingredients take centre stage as the main taste event. The same simple approach seemed to me to be true in the dessert cookbook, which was it ended up on my list instead of a Martha version or something like the Moosewood Desserts book. In fact the recipes are simple enough that last night, as I thumbed through it trying to pick the recipe I would try first, I was very pleased to note that many of the options I was considering I could make with ingredients regularly stocked in my pantry/fridge. Of course there are a few more fussy options in there: profiteroles anyone? But with the first attempt now behind me, I can say that Modern Classics 2 has at least one straightforward recipe that I would certainly make again. Of course, I've yet to taste anything save a lick of the bowl but that was pretty darn tasty.

If it somehow morphs into a total disaster, I will be sure to let y'all know, but it is currently cooling on a rack in the kitchen and looks and smells pretty darn tasty. So, if you've got a nice organic lemon lying around just itching for some zesting, why not try Donna Hay's Lemon Slice:

1/2 cup caster sugar (icing sugar)
1 1/4 cup all purpose flour
120g butter (I'm so glad I bought a kitchen scale finally, I use it all the time now)
1 tbsp milk

Filling:
1 1/2 tbsp cornstarch (I used arrowroot powder which I use instead of cornstarch)
2/3 cup single cream
6 eggs
1 3/4 cups caster sugar
1 1/2 tbsp zested lemon rind
3/4 cup lemon juice

Preheat the oven to 330F (170C). Process the sugar, flour, butter and milk in a food processor until the mixture comes together in a ball. (This took about 3 minutes for me). Press into a 8x12 inch baking tin lined with parchment paper. Bake for 25 minutes until it starts to brown.

To make the topping whisk the cornstarch (arrowroot) with 2 tbsps of the cream until smooth (use a large bowl here, I didn't and then had to transfer to a larger one making extra dishes). Add the remaining ingredients (I swear I had to look back at that list for 6 eggs about 6 times before I convinced myself that you really needed that many) and whisk together. Place in a saucepan over low heat and whisk for 6 minutes until the mixture thickens. I had to do this for about 10 minutes or a bit more even before mine thickened but perhaps that was the arrowroot? It was thick enough in the end.

Pour the lemon mixture over the base and bake for 5 minutes until just set. Cool. Slice. Ta da.

Readymade: All the Cool Kids

So a bunch of my craftiest craft heros have joined forces on the new ReadyMade blog. How cool is that?  You've got superstar Gayla, Craft-Queen Megan, Might Fine Maggie, Loobylu's Claire Robertson and others! Awesome.

I picked up Readymade again over the holidays as a small gift for Martin and it made me think that he should really be submitting some of his stuff like oh: the couch he made, the bookshelves, our livingroom lamps, our many varied coffee tables/storage peices, and on and on. We have a few other house-y/furniture projects lined up for the Spring and I think I may just have to try documenting them well enough that we can try sending something in. Afterall, who doesn't want to be in that kind of company?
 

Book Club

My dear friend Sarah, who has an incredible talent for bringing people together, has recently organized a book club. The book club meets for the first time this Sunday evening with Marjane Satrapi's Embroderies as the evening's focal point.

I'm looking forward to it, though somewhat cautious as it has been a long time since I've been involved in any kind of even semi-formal academic discussion that didn't take place over cocktails. And upon telling Martin that I had a book club meeting to attend on Sunday night so wouldn't be available for our usual Double Dutch skipping, I suddenly felt that combined with homeownership and having just purchased a matching washer/dryer set (at Sears no less!) I might as well have told him that I was going to an Avon party or something. Knowing the kinds of folks that Sarah generally has around her however, I'm pretty certain that both these neurotic fears will be rapidly dispelled Sunday evening.

So my neurosis aside, what about the book? The book is great. Though like both of Satrapi's other titles (Persepolis and Persepolis 2) it left me wanting more, but I think that is more a reflection of my inexperience reading graphic novels which propels me on first read through the words paying none-to-detailed attention to the drawings themselves. Once I had finished it (which took about 25 minutes one morning over breakfast) I went right back to the beginning and reconsidered it with more attention to the artwork and less hunger to know "what happens next." Both times through (and I plan to do a third before tomorrow night if possible) I loved this story and the storyteller.