Eggs and broccoli

I went for a proper brunch the other day, and by proper I mean for a meal I could never be bothered to make at home. I had eggs Florentine, a life-long favourite: poached eggs on English muffin with steamed spinach and hollandaise. Making this dish at home, though possible of course, is fraught with difficulty. While steamed spinach and toast are fairly simple to manage, the other two components are a nightmare of timing and precision.

I've made hollandaise sauce once in my life: successfully, though not without the requisite bother. Setting aside the concern of the shocking amount of butter needed to make hollandaise, the sauce also requires feats of strength and patience to complete. The mixture of butter and egg yolk, once combined in a bowl set over a saucepan of simmering water (a bain marie), must be whisked continuously to avoid separation or over cooking. In addition, hollandaise must be served immediately after it has been made, for it continues to thicken if left on the heat or separate if unattended. Unless I either hire a sous chef or grow another pair of arms, poached eggs (a task requiring an equal amount of attention and care) and hollandaise is a meal best left to professionals.

And yet, now that I've had a taste for unctuous butter mixed with the tang of lemon juice and the smoothness of egg yolk, I can't go back to plain boiled eggs for breakfast. And so, I have invented my own poached eggs hollandaise: two soft boiled eggs with butter and a squirt of lemon juice. It's cooking down to the basic ingredients, and it certainly will never replace the original. But, cooking is about making something to eat, not driving yourself crazy, so I am pleased that my minimalist version is so satisfying.

From the web
Ever wonder how long mothers have been forcing their kids to finish their broccoli? Eight thousand years, give or take. This food time line tells us at what point in human history different food items found their way onto our plates. We've been eating wheat for 10,000 years, though ravioli is a 13th century invention. Some items I've never heard of, like the emmer and einkorn grains of 17,000 and 16,000 BC, respectively. Also listed is the first cookbook, a Dutch "kitchen book" called "Good and Noble Food", published sometime in the 15th century. Given Gutenberg's invention of the printing press in 1440, it must not have been long before someone noticed such books would be appreciated.

P.S. I took a break from Pickle Pea over the summer, as regular readers may have noticed. (Sorry for the lack of notice. Thanks for your patience!) I'm back now. Expect a return to my usual schedule of 3-4 posts/month.

Banana break

This piece of culinary genius comes from my husband. He rarely cooks, though as I have said before, when he does the results are inspired.

We are preparing for a vacation to the Cayman Islands for a friend’s wedding. Given the high cost of everything from toothpaste to dry goods on the island, we have been planning to bring a suitcase or two of non-perishables to prepare in our kitchenette. We leave in a week, and so far we've eaten about half of everything I have bought for our trip, including a box of PC Organics Original Pancake Mix.

I am interested to discover all of the possible uses for pancake mix. Not only does it make great pancakes, but as we have now learned, a thicker batter with double the egg works as a delicious frying batter for sweet treats. B cut up several not-too-ripe bananas we had sitting on the counter and dipped the pieces in the batter before frying them for several minutes per side in hot oil.



I remember being slightly horrified when I watched Nigella Lawson dropping battered mini Bounty bars into her deep fryer and gobbling them up straight from the vat. Now I’m more concerned for us never leaving the house and dipping everything we can think of into pancake batter. It tastes so good.

For those of you who are regular follows of my blog or know me at all may wonder why I am now embracing the wheat, so to speak. I wrote about my no wheat policy several months ago as I began questioning the necessity of my personal ban. Since then, I have visited an allergy specialist who quickly concluded I am not allergic. She gave me a good earful about not just food allergies, but also how the digestive system works, and I can see that my personal fluctuations had more to do with stress than anything else. I have subsequently been eating all things gluten-filled for two months now with no change in my general health and well-being.

If you are one of the many people who has been recommended by an alternative health practitioner to avoid certain foods, I invite you to consider verifying their claims with your family doctor. After all, why live life without all of the tastes our culinary world has to offer if you don't have to?

Breakfast redux

When it comes to breakfast, we all have our habits. Nigella Lawson cleverly wrote that first thing in the morning she would “rather make breakfast than a decision.” She eats the same breakfast every day, as I’m sure most of us do. My parents have been following the same breakfast schedule for years: porridge on weekdays, fried eggs and bacon on Saturdays and waffles on Sunday. There’s a certain comfort I get from knowing that wherever they are, I know what my parents had to eat that morning.

Lately, I've been enjoying soft boiled eggs and buttered toast for the most important meal of the day. I have taken the guesswork out of cooking the eggs by employing my egg-cooker, an ingenious contraption that looks more like a UFO than a kitchen appliance. I like that I am following the same ritual as Nigella, several hours later and with notable exceptions: the Italian eggs and Poîlane toast she demands are not available here. Poor me, unable to fully appreciate the domestic goddess's daily feast. Only in England, it seems, are the nationality of eggs of vital consideration. Said the Queen: “I myself prefer New Zealand eggs for breakfast.” Don’t we all....

I looked up some other notable breakfast quotations. (There aren’t many.) My favourite is from Arnold Schwarzenegger: “My body is like breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I don't think about it, I just have it.” I took moderate offense to Oscar Wilde before wondering what exactly he really meant by “only boring people are brilliant at breakfast.” I also realized that, in this modern life of eating breakfast at my desk, I am perhaps avoiding a potential minefield. After all, according to A P Herbert, “the critical period of matrimony is breakfast-time.”

Other breakfast links:

• Sample breakfast menus from Health Canada
• Breakfast of champions: the boring version from CNN, the cereal, the novel, and don't forget the true BoC from my university days (Shreddies and beer)
• Edible breakfast links

What’s your breakfast routine?

Baking feeds the soul

One of my inspirations for starting this blog came by way of an old friend and her fabulous cookbook.

About eight years ago, tired of chronic daily allergies and colds every 6-8 weeks, I visited a nutritionist who told me to stop eating wheat (as well as any other glutinous grain: rye, spelt, kamut, titricale, semolina, oat, and barley). I complied, desperate to rid myself of waking up every morning with sneezes and a runny nose. Within several months, my allergies disappeared completely, but I was left with a huge, gaping chasm of loss: no baking.

I dealt with the absence of baked goods in my life as best I could. I bought gluten-free cookbooks to replace traditional baking, but found rice flour unpalatable and the reliance on gluten-replacement substances like guar gum unsettling. I would sometimes fall off the wagon, indulging in croissants and cookies, only to regret my actions when my body revolted. I would finger through my favourite cookbooks with sadness, longing for the satisfaction the writers felt with the simple baking and eating of a coffee cake. Eventually, I resigned myself to accept life without cookies, scones, breads, muffins. I would be okay.

A few weeks ago, I did a Google-search of "grain-free" and found a familiar name. Jenny Lass, my classmate from senior kindergarten through grade 8, is now a diagnosed celiac and co-author of the Grain-free Gourmet cookbooks. I ran out and bought her books and, with trepidation, began testing the recipes. The baked goods rely on almond flour for their substance, which, to my surprise, is readily available and tastes great. The introductions to each book are simple and informative, imparting the science and philosophy of the specific carbohydrate diet as well as the personal journeys of the co-authors. I'm looking forward to reconnecting with Jenny tomorrow afternoon after more than 20 years.

Yesterday, I made Basic Biscuits from the second cookbook, Everyday Grain-free Gourmet. I realized through this process that baking is not a result. It's a complete experience, from feeling the craving for something warm and comforting to eat, through preparing the dough, preheating the oven, and watching the baking rise and turn golden brown. I remember now being eight years old and waiting with anticipation, watching my cakes and cookies rise through the plexiglas window of my Easy Bake Oven, swelling under the heat of a 60 watt bulb. The completion of the baking experience is extracting the goods from the oven and eating them, warm and fresh. They are tiny miracles: the product of intention and patience.

I ate my biscuits with butter, yoghurt cheese, jam and a cup of tea. They were warm and soft and tasted exactly as I remember. Thank you, Jenny.

NOTE: The best way to buy almond flour is in bulk. It is available for as low as $6 per pound through jkgourmet.com and can be frozen to maintain its freshness indefinitely. Almond flour is also available in small quantities at health food stores, though is much pricier. I have also found almond flour in the health food section of my local supermarket.

It's pannekoeken time

When I smell fall in the air, I think of Amsterdam. This morning, the outside thermostat read 13 degrees and the house was cool and fresh. I felt like we were back in Holland where we spent our week-long honeymoon in October, 2002.

We stayed in a houseboat on a street called Achtergracht, a word that when properly pronounced summons vast amounts of phlegm. We realized once we arrived to the city that we had chosen our ideal honeymoon destination. We recovered from our wedding by spending our days wandering through museums and outdoor markets, recharging ourselves in "coffee shops," and walking along the canals. Fall had already settled on the city, as the trees had lost most of their leaves and the autumn winds gathered intensity with each passing day. The day before we returned to Canada, we were treated to a massive storm that whipped rain and debris around the city and made walking next to impossible. Our little houseboat held fast, though we could feel the canal waters churning beneath.

One of our favourite meals in Amsterdam was at one of the many pannekoeken huis, eating the large crepe-like pancakes they served with fresh fruit. In the photo above, my husband's fork is a blur, proof of how fast we gobbled down these Dutch treats.

I found many recipes for pannekoeken online. This one seems quite basic, and I saw this gluten-free one as well. Since I no longer cook with grain flour, I made my own version using almond flour and maple syrup. I can't remember if they taste like the Dutch version since it's been so long. No matter: They were really tasty.

GRAIN-FREE PANNEKOEKEN
Serves 1

1/4 c almond flour
1/8 tsp baking soda
1/8 tsp salt
2 eggs
1/4 tsp vanilla extract
1 Tbsp maple syrup

Combine the almond flour, baking soda and salt in a bowl. Using a wire whisk or fork, beat in the eggs, vanilla and syrup. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and place in in the fridge for 10-15 minutes to thicken.

Heat a large skillet or crepe pan over medium heat. Brush melted butter onto the heated surface (the butter should sizzle on contact when the pan is hot enough) and spoon out a third of the batter, swirling the pan around to distribute it evenly. Flip the pancake when the batter is no longer liquid and the edges start to brown and curl. Remove to a heated plate.

Serve with chopped fruit, syrup, ice cream, jam, ham and melted cheese, chocolate sauce, cinnamon and sugar, or anything else you can think of.

Makes 3 pannekoeken.



NOTE: If you like pancakes, a crepe pan is both inexpensive and indispensable. I bought mine several months ago and am amazed how pancakes never stick to the surface. Never wash your crepe pan -- only wipe it with a paper towel after use -- and never use it for anything except pancakes. It will be yours for life.

Photos: At top, my husband eating pannekoeken in a cafe in Amsterdam, October, 2002. Above, my well-seasoned deBuyer crepe pan.