domicile

Italian in Mexico

The night before we left for Mexico I made burritos. "Mexican? Seriously? Before we go to Mexico?" Was Martin's first comment when he entered the kitchen. And ya, when he put it that way it did seem a little ridiculous, but I was just trying to find a way to use up ingredients in the fridge. As it turns out, we ate very little Mexican food in Mexico. Unless you count margaritas. Which I don't. While Puerto Vallarta is a very easy town to vacation in (which is exactly what we were looking for), and while the food there is really quite wonderful overall, very little of what is authentic is vegetarian. Or even close. I knew this going down, but I hadn't really absorbed the reality of it. And so, because I can not bring myself to eat at overly cheesy (in all possible senses of that word) tex-mex style tourista locales (which were the only places offering Mexican with anything resembling a veggie option) we ate a lot of Italian. Quite a lot actually. And it was really pretty good. Turns out there's a heck of a lot of Italian food in Puerto Vallarta, some of it made by expat Italians who have capitalized on the availability of awesome fresh local staples like tomatoes, peppers, eggplants (most of which are grown for export up here in the winter months) to make some really decent Italian food, including homemade pasta and gnocchi that was nearly as good as dishes I've had in Italy. It all made me feel a bit mixed up and did nothing to help my bad habit of confusing Spanish and Italian vocabulary -- for some reason I have the most trouble with numbers and again found myself in the back of a cab trying to give an address with a "5" in it as cinque instead of cinco, this has happened before but in a French version -- but still the eating was good. This isn't to say we abandoned Mexican food altogether. We partook in some awesome street corn (much like this kind Heidi Swanson includes in her cookbook), had some beautiful veggie enchilladas made specially in one restaurant, and in the kitchen in our room we partook in gorgeous avocados, tomatillos, fresh juicy limes and delicate corn tortillas.

Overall, the trip was a success. Which is to say, we did very little, and other than the overabundance of pasta/pizza I have very little to report. It was easy. I read two books from front to back. We did the NY Times crossword. We napped in chairs perched in front of the ocean. And, just to round out the Mexican experience we had one day, now known as Tequilla Wednesday, where we overdid it just a bit.
It's lovely to be home though. Spring is all over the place in my garden, with daffodils even blooming in sunny corner! Now I need to set about getting the house in order for the week, and planning some groceries to ensure that we don't eat a spec of pasta for the next week or so.

Our First Review

I'm going to have to ask you to forgive me some book news here. Technically all of this info should live over at the book website, but I have a feeling I won't be able to contain it all over there. We got our first review today from Publisher's Weekly and it's positive! Big huge sigh of relief. While I'm trying to brace myself for the inevitable negative review, I have to say it's nice to start on a positive note. You can read the full review here, but this is my favourite part:

The authors cover the fundamentals of crafting a mission statement, developing branding, handling finances and legal issues, hiring good employees and expanding your business with admirable clarity, bolstered by success stories, helpful exercises and sample budgets.

I know it's dorky, but given how much work went into editing that sucker, I'm kind of thrilled by the "admirable clarity" part. It makes all those rewrites feel a little more worth it. Oh and if you're keeping track, we've updated the name of the book's blog from Boss Lady to LaurenandEmira.com. Since the book didn't end up being called Boss Lady we didn't want to confuse things. Besides, this way it's about building the Lauren and Emira empire, which was always the plan anyway.

Tastes Like Flowers

Several summers ago, my beloved yoga teacher and friend introduced me to the delights of a hint of rosewater in a pitcher of cool water as a hot summer thirst quencher. The recipe is quite simple: take one large pitcher of pure water, add a bit of rosewater (say 1-2 tsps per pitcher) and drink. You can also add a bit of fresh lemon, which balances the floral taste and makes for a particularly refreshing drink. This is not a drink for everyone, and I would caution that many folks I have served it to respond by saying, in a non-too-impressed tone: "it tastes like flowers." And they're right. It does. Rather a lot. Like roses in fact. So if that isn't your thing, I'd recommend skipping this one. If it is, however, this is a wonderful and easy way to make a fabulous treat for yourself.

These days, the blossoms are threatening to bloom in our neck of the world and I even saw a patch of daffodils in full bloom on a run the other morning (granted they were next to a south facing wall, but still). Having had a particularly crummy summer last year in these parts, I'm finding myself aching for Spring and already fast fowarding mentally to summer's arrival. I've jump started things and started drinking this rosewater drink while out in the garden planting seeds and digging out weeds. I like to think it helps the flowers along.

While searching for places online to buy culinary rosewater, (I didn't really find any useful ones, so try any Arabic, Greek or Indian market, it comes in bottles for about $5), I came across this awesome  website for the Human Flower Project. The Human Flower Project describes itself as "The Human Flower Project is an international newsgroup, photo album and discussion of how people live through flowers. We report on art, medicine, society, politics, religion, and commerce." Lovely! Read their article on making rosewater in Iran here. Their entire Food category is in fact worth a browse if you're the flower lovin' culinary type.
 

In Praise of Agave Syrup

Heidi Swanson is regularly recommends Agave syrup in her recipes at 101 Cookbooks and in  Super Natural Cooking, and it is a natural sweetener that often comes up in vegan cookbooks (being safe for those vegans who eschew honey). I've never tried using it before, always thinking "well I've got plenty of honey, surely I don't need yet another thing to crowd my baking drawer." However, I'm on a mission to try to recreate the Puffed Wheat Squares of my childhood in a more health friendly format (meaning no corn syrup) and so decided to pick up a bottle of agave syrup at the store this weekend while perusing the baking isle. I've yet to try it in my Puffed Wheat Square adventures, but I can report that it is indeed an awesome pantry addition.

With a milder flavour and much less sweet than the local honeys I buy (or corn syrup for that matter) agave syrup is an excellent and easy way to add a bit of sweetness to a dish. Agave syrup has a much lower sweetness factor, but a really nice flavour to it, and it's very easy to pour/measure and dissolve into things (not nearly as sticky as some sweeteners). And, apparently it has a much lower glycemic index than other sugars. I've used it several times since I bought it now, in tea, in a spicy asian ginger sauce, in a salad dressing and in a tofu marinade. I can see where it would be particularly well suited to sweetening drinks like homemade summer iced teas as it dissolves really easily and isn't an overpowering flavour. There's a great little article about it over at Mighty Foods, along with some links to recipes that use it.  I still need to try it out for my Puffed Wheat Squares and I'm not sure if you can bring it to a rolling boil like you can corn syrup, but when I find out, I'll let you know.

Spring Sewing Itch

I've got a strong itch to get sewing. While right now I have exactly no time to actually scratch that itch, I've got a number of plans up my sleeves, and decided this weekend to take stock of my fabric stash and available patterns/project wish list and plot something out as a project for when we return from some sunshine. Then I made my big mistake: I went online to seek out a pattern for a basic bias cut slip (something I've been looking for, for ages) which I want to use to make some simple night dresses with some lovely Heather Bailey fabric I've got collecting dust. While I found a lead on a book that may hold the secrets to such a pattern and requested it from my local library, I also found this new Amy Butler tunic pattern. And, after telling myself very sternly that another pattern was the last thing I needed, when I've already got piles of unsewn projects in the basement I went ahead and ordered it. Then, because I could get free shipping if I ordered two, I also ordered this one. And now I find myself watching some ebay auctions on more fabric. This now leaves me with at least 3 projects - tunic, slip and skirt - to complete and a book tour to plan all in the next few weeks. I sure hope I come back from the beach good and rested.

Oh, and speaking of sewing, Alicia has an awesome Binding 101 tutorial on her site, if like me you are binding challenged.

Playing Dress Up

If you spend much time with Alex she will bring you under her Anthropologie spell. In particular, her success at scoring the Anthro sale racks. Perhaps the best testament to this is that while visiting Seattle briefly last weekend we managed to run into Felicia (someone we met through Alex) in the sale rack, browsing the same racks. I was on a budget, but had my heart set on getting something that I could wear to our book launch party in the Spring. While I know it's ages away, I also know the time between now and then will whiz by, and frankly there are so many other things to do to prepare for that event, that knowing I have an outfit in my closet seems like a good thing to tick off the list.  Not only did I get a lovely chocolate brown french party dress for $60, Lauren also spied these gold shoes on the sale rack which were (saldy for her) in my size. And 50% off. The whole ensemble makes me feel like I'm a little girl playing dress-up (in a good way), I think largely because I used to have a pair of gold, very sparkly shoes in my dress up box that had once belonged to my Nana. I adored those shoes in all their 10 sizes too big for me splendour and there's something about these that transports me back to those days of fantasy. Now, in addition to all the other planning that needs to be done, I'll just need to be sure to get a pedicure before the party.

Off My Beatten Track

In less than three weeks Martin and I will be taking a trip. A trip that takes us out of our usual travel norm into some new territory. We're headed to an all inclusive condo-type vacation in Mexico. For reals. Normally, when I crave a whole whack of sunshine, I'm fortunate enough to have family with property in Costa Rica. And that particular slice of the warm Pacific Ocean can pretty nearly not be beat. But, getting there takes a good two days from Vancouver and with my current work commitments, the coming book tour/book marketing stuff that will begin soon and take us through the summer and some current unexpected tax bills for Martin, we're short on time. I'm normally the kind of gal who will forgo fancy gadgets and expensive things to save for a few weeks of walking along cobble stone streets in a foreign town, and I have to say it was a bit of a hard choice to take some savings to go to a touristy mecca, but damn do we need a holiday. So, soon we'll be off. For a week in Puerto Vallarta. If, per chance, you've ever done the same and have tips for things to see that do not involve co-eds or tequila shooters, I'd love to hear them. Otherwise, we'll be packing up our swimsuits and a few good books and escaping the rain and computers for a week, and trying to see what kind of adventures we can get up to when we're not too busy just doing a whole lotta nothing.

Breathtakingly beautiful prose

This morning I started as a usual Sunday morning for me lately. My eyes popped awake around 7am, and try as I might I was unable to get back to sleep, despite having stayed up a bit too late playing boardgames with our family and some friends who came over. It was what happened next that broke the usual Sunday morning mold. As soon as I determined I wasn't going to go back to sleep, I eagerly picked up my copy of Felicia's new book, The Sky Isn't Visible from Here, and immersed myself back in  her story. I told myself I'd read just one more chapter of this book which I've been devouring all week, before getting up and starting on the day's to-do list. By about 8am Martin woke up. He asked if I'd like a coffee -- which I declined -- and headed into the kitchen. I vaguely heard him make coffee and then head downstairs, where by the sound of things he was working on reassembling my bike, the redecoration of which has been his most recent project. I kept reading.

Eventually Pluto came to bed and nuzzled into my armpit, me somewhat awkwardly holding the hardcover out in front of both of us. I kept reading.

By roughly 10 I had only a few pages left, which I had begun to read more slowly than the preceding few hundred I'd raced through this week, savouring them and willing the book not to end. By half past 10 I was done. Martin had been up before me for hours on a Sunday -- something that never happens -- and I could hear Pia stirring in her room. I closed the book, and no word of a lie, thought about starting it over again.

This, The Sky Isn't Visible from Here, is a stunning piece of writing. A tale so beautifully written and such a pleasure to read that I plan to go buy a second copy to loan out to as many people as I can think of (I must keep my autographed copy for myself I fear), though I will of course also encourage them to buy their own. To say it is a brave tale feels condescending, as it is the very real tale of Felicia's life (or a part of it anyway), but I do think there is some truth is naming it as brave. Not so much in the telling of her story, but in the time and care with which she chose to craft it. She is a woman who has a remarkable way with words, an ability to paint pictures that place you not just in the room with the story but in the heart of her experiences. And truly, the only fault I can find with it is how much it left me wanting more. More of any story she chose to tell, for it is in the telling that her talent shines through.

Breadtime Stories

When I travel, I typically spend a fair amount of my time focused on food. From the oh-so-rich avocado sandwiches in Mal Pais, Costa Rica (you have never seen so many fresh avocados -- and yes I mean more than one -- stuffed between two halves of a bun), to simple pizza bianca from Forno in the Campo de'Fiori in Rome that continues to haunt my tastebuds, I love finding local foods when I travel. My very favourite culinary travel notes have to do with bread. Typically breads that are a specialty in the region and which elude my Vancouver based kitchen. I adore bread -- which I've mentioned before -- and I would by lying if I told you haven't thought about planning vacations around opportunities to return to some of the better loaves/slices I've enjoyed abroad. At the top of my list are: the pizza from Forno in Rome (and experience not to be missed), Danish rye bread (available from any bakery in the country it seems) bursting with whole rye berries and a sour taste that pairs so very well with fresh european butter and raspberry jam, and a baguette sold by one particular alimentaire in the very small and old town of Radda in Chianti. This baguette from Radda is in fact the strongest motivation behind my desire to bake bread. It was a dark, rich multigrain. As dark as a rye bread, but with an almost burnt caramel flavour as well as a very deep nuttiness. It came in small baguettes, and often sold out before my partner and I had a chance to get to that particular alimentaire, but it was prized by us both when we managed to get a loaf. It was perfect as it was, but was particularly lovely with a bit of hard cheese, like a Padano. Oh how I think about that bread.

So yes. My breadmaking, aside from the pleasure it brings me with each loaf I create, is about one day -- and I expect this day to be in the far off future -- being able to replicate that one loaf from Radda. I may need to go back between now and then for another sample as reference, however. I've been progressing in my bread experimentation. I tried the French Bread recipe from the January issue of Living, which made two very successful yeasted white French rounds. A learned a fair bit about dough textures through that recipe. The dough started out really wet on the first knead and I thought it would never hold together, but through patient kneading the texture changed entirely and the final product was quite lovely actually. It is a recipe I'll make again, though it didn't really have the depth of flavour I'm looking for. I picked up a copy of Local Breads, by Daniel Leader, a couple of weeks ago, and Martin has been teasing me for reading about bread before I go to sleep ever since. This is a man whose passion for bread I can deeply appreciate. Part recipe book, part how-to guide for making artisan breads, and part travelogue it is a book for bread lovers and bakers. So far I made Rosemary Ficelle, two long loaves of Italian bread (with a yeast starter) studded with fresh rosemary and coarse sea salt. The recipe was extremely easy to follow and his step by step instructions (with variations catered exclusively to KitchenAid users) include FAQs and notes on what to do if things aren't going according to plan.

It is a beautifully written and designed book, focusing on artisan breads from France, Italy, Poland, German and the Czech Republic. I was originally looking for Peter Reinhart's Whole Grain Breads, as recommended by Heidi, but was smitten with Local Breads for two recipes: one for a German whole rye bread that uses a rye starter to ensure that the bread is gluten free and has that distinct sour rye taste that I fell for in Denmark; the second is the recipe for Forno's rustic pizza from the Campo in Rome (both bianca and rosso), which he learned from the master baker there himself and claims to have adapted to work in the average home oven (which can of course never replicate the huge brick wood burning ovens of Forno). Given the reverence and delight with which he speaks about each baker he shared recipes and techniques with, I'm inclined to believe that under his written tutildge one can learn a lot about breads.

My next hurdle is to successfully start and nurture a sour starter. I may start with the rye starter, but as always I need a bit more time and energy to devote to things like monitoring a jar of flour and water. One of the things I find so useful about the book is the photos and illustrations of successful doughs and problem doughs, in addition to well thought out FAQs. When I do give my first sour starter a whirl, I think I'll photograph it for the small segment of folks out there also interested in giving this a whirl, so you can see what a successful (or failed) starter looks like from day 1 to 6 or 7 when it should reveal itself as a winner (or not).

Exciting Things Currently

Cool things on other blogs at the moment:

• Colleen Baran is collecting stories of love for a jewelry series. Collen makes gorgeous jewelry, which you can buy here.
• Felicia's book is now available to be purchased and delivered to your door. Congrats Felicia!
• Heidi Swanson has kicked off a new series of posts with cookbook reviews by style/trendsetters. The first one features the oh-so-talented Grace Bonney of Design*Sponge Online. (Grace is one of the many savvy business ladies profiled in our book; it amazes me just how much she manages to get done in a day).
• This is really a pretty old one, but I came across Cinnamon Cooper's (of Poise Bags) DIY Chalkboard Vase article the other day and think it's awfully swell. I may try to get the time/energy together to make some of these as gifts next holidays. (We also profiled Cinnamon in our upcoming book; such smart ladies).