blueberry buttermilk pancakes

I charged up the battery on my old d-slr this week. It's been a while since I played around with it. Last winter I upgraded my lens to a pretty snazzy macro for improved food photographs. All photos today were shot on my Nikon D40 with a AF-S Micro NIKKOR 85 mm. No flash.




After a wildly successful catering event this week, I had a few ingredients left over. Including most of a litre of buttermilk. What do you do when life hands you buttermilk? You make buttermilk pancakes, of course.

This recipe was modified from the one found here at epicurious.com

Ingredients:
2 C washed and dried fresh blueberries
1 1/3 C all purpose flour
3 Tbsp sugar
2 1/2 tsp baking powder
3/4 tsp salt
1 1/4 C buttermilk
2 large eggs
2 Tbsp unsalted butter, melted
dash of ground cinnamon
real maple syrup to serve



Prepare the blueberries and leave them out on a folded sheet of paper towel to dry on the counter.



Preheat your oven to 250 degrees. Cover a baking sheet with a couple layers of paper towel to absorb excess oil. Put it in the oven and as each batch comes out of the pan, put it on the baking sheet and leave it in the oven to stay hot.

Whisk together dry ingredients in a large bowl.

In a medium sized bowl, whisk wet ingredients.

Add wet to dry. Do not over-beat. Small lumps are okay.

Heat about a tablespoon of vegetable oil in a non-stick pan over medium heat.

I started with oil and then switched to butter to keep the pan greased between batches. I like my pancakes to be a bit crispy around the edges, so I like lots of hot oil or butter in the pan. The first few pancakes are always a little wobbly, but once you get your heat right and the motion down, you kind of get a rhythm going.

Fold the blueberries into the batter with a spatula. I started coking the pancakes before I thought of adding the cinnamon, but now would have been a good time to do that.

Pour a heaping tablespoon of batter into the pan. Don't overcrowd. You need to have room to get in and flip.

You know the pancakes are reading to be flipped when little air bubbles begin appearing on the top.

A second spatula is often helpful in the flipping. Don't worry if you screw up the first few times. I've been flipping pancakes for years and I always start out a little rusty. To check that you've got it right, cut open a finished pancake to make sure the batter is fully cooked through.

Make sure you remove all the little mini pancake bits (bb's, my mom calls them) and loose blueberries so that they don't burn over the course of cooking.

Serve hot with as much maple syrup as you like.


Other topping options:
sweet yogurt
whipped cream
fresh fruit
jam
apple butter
creme liquer

If you're like me, and always make too much food, these pancakes can be covered and refrigerated. They will reheat beautifully in the toaster oven tomorrow morning. Or later tonight. More that likely, later tonight, as I don't think they are going to survive the J monster and his powerful pancake chomping action.

fruit filled french toast

I have been promising J I would make him some more stuffed french toast for the last couple of weeks. School, work, the ever-present mountain of laundry rising up out of the hamper in the corner... somehow, getting up and making breakfast on the weekends get lost under the covers.

This time I was making good on my promise. And boy was it good...

You can use whatever fruit you like for the filling. If it slices well like bananas or pears then they can go right in, as is. For berries, they should be macerated first.

I just so happened to have some extra cream cheese frosting leftover from cupcakes I made for class earlier in the week. Thanks for the recipe, La. The cream cheese frosting was actually J's idea. And for topping I chopped up craisins and pumpkin seeds and had 2 varieties. The Joy of Cooking strikes again!

Cream Cheese Frosting: (makes 2 cups)
8 oz cold cream cheese
5 Tbsp soft, unsalted butter
2 tsp vanilla
2-4 cups confectioner's sugar (I didn't use as much as Rombauer calls for because I wanted the flavour of the cream cheese to be more present. Plus I don't like having things too sweet. This is going on cupcakes and french toast after all...)

Step one: Beat together vanilla, butter, and cream cheese.
Step two: Sift in sugar in batches.
Step three: Stir, stir, stir! Or if you are lucky and have an electric mixer or food processor... well then... that's just a lot easier, isn't it?

For french toast: (this is for two, multiply as needed)

4 slices of bread (I like challah or sliced country loaves)
Arrange your bread slices like butterflies and spread 1 Tbsp of cream cheese frosting on each facing slice.

Layer banana slices so that they rest overlapping but still inside the edge of the crust.

How to macerate berries:
Rinse and dry raspberries... or blackberries, or blueberries (you get the idea.)
Place in a bowl.
Mash for 10 seconds or until the once-berries are now kind of in between recognizable fruit and jam.

Squeeze about 2 tsp of juice from a lemon. See this post for a tip on a quick, easy, clean way to juice a lemon without any fancy gadgets.

Sprinkle 1-2 Tbsp of fine or superfine sugar. Mix together and check for balance of sweetness, acidity, and berry flavour.

Let stand briefly before spreading over the already existing layer of cream cheese on one side of the butterflied bread.

In a medium sized flat-bottom dish, prepare a mixture of 3 eggs, salt, cinnamon, and a splash of milk and stir vigorously with a fork.

After closing each sandwich, press firmly together before placing the bread in the egg mixture.

Wait for the bread to soak up the egg before flipping and repeating the soak up time.

Prepare a large non-stick pan, melting about 1 Tbsp of butter over medium heat until sizzling.

Transfer bread from egg dish to hot pan. Fry on both sides until golden and no longer releasing egg when poked with a spatula.

J and I wanted to try 2 different kinds of filling so when it was ready to come out of the pan I quickly cut each one in half and served up combo plates. They were quickly doused in maple syrup and whipped cream and gobbled down with indulgent glee.

Now I ask you, if pizza is a vegetable, is raspberry and cream cheese filled french toast a serving of dairy and of fruit?

Portuguese egg tarts and why I love them

I don't exactly know when I tasted my first pastels de nata. I do know that I have since brought their delightful sweet flakiness to as many people as I can. Coffee dates with friends, potluck contributions to work meetings, most recently one to my grandfather who's still stuck in the hospital. Man oh man, did that make his day... I've never seen anybody eat of of these so fast...

For a long time I only ever had these tarts from Italian bakeries and cafes. Kind of funny, no? Nowhere near Italy and with a completely different food history, Portugal has it's own food thing going on - flame grilled chicken sandwiches, fresh seafood and egg dishes, and Port wine to name a few off the top of my head.

I think it has something to do with Portuguese bread. Ever the Italophile, my dad still swears that bread from the Portuguese bakery is the best. He's done his homework to discover that many of the Italian cafes and trattorias around town source their buns from Portuguese bakeries. In any case, I imagine this is how the Portuguese egg tart made its way into the display cases of Tra Amici Cafe and the Italian Centre Shop. The tarts pictured above, however, come from the Handy Bakery on 118th Ave and 87th Street. The ladies at the counter there are very friendly and the prices are exceedingly reasonable.

The essence of the tart is the creamy, sweet egg custard. Not jiggly or runny, it is a dreamy consistency. It doesn't even really taste like egg. But it's not just pure saccharine either. The tarts were first introduced by nuns at the Monastery of Belem, near Lisbon, in the early 1800's. Egg yolks were used in baking because the egg whites were needed for things like starching nun's habits. (Taken from this article in the Christian Science Monitor, it's fascinating!)

Since then, this delectable confection has become the signature pastry of Portugal. J and I were recently in Montreal visiting family and we stayed in the Little Portugal part of the city. The Plateau is an area full of international flavours - but undoubtedly, the smell of flam grilled chickens from all the sandwich shops is the dominant aroma, at least in my nostrils.

I awoke one morning to find that J had already been up and out, discovering the neighbourhood. He had returned with hot coffee and a little white box that I eagerly opened. Inside were four pasteis de nata, freshly baked. Not only is the custard filling velvety and beautiful yellow, but the pastry exterior is as once flaky and chewy. I don't know how, and frankly it blows my mind every time, as I am terrible at pastry.
You know how I know it will work with J and me? The man knows the way to my heart, obviously...

recent food notes to mention

Have you ever tried cuttlefish tentacles? I didn't realize what I was missing until I was urged to try these at Kyoto recently. A much needed and long overdue night out with some girlfriends from work resulted in the four of us squeezing into one of their shoji-screened rooms, feet dangling on the floor, as we splashed our way through a bottle of hot sake.
The tentacles were served with a mango aioli as an appetizer along with deep fried Karaage Tofu - puffy and piping hot. We shared a Maki Boat covered in rolls of various fish and vegetable fillings and sprang for additional courses of salmon and tuna sashimi - melt in your mouth deliciousness...


Being substantially more settled in our new house, we decided it was high time to invite the parentals over for a brunch of approval. I spent the week tossing around recipe ideas and jotting them down on scraps of paper to see how they made out all together. J and Mel were given their dishes to be responsible for and then also given the task of ensuring that curtain rods were screwed into walls and floors were swept. The night before the brunch I had to work late, so I left them to their tasks and made sure my dad knew he was to bring the bubbly for the mimosas.

Everyone came through and it was an altogether lovely morning. Dad's cremant was delicious (on its own as well as mixed with orange juice). Mom was a champ and showed up with a very impressive fruit plate... I've never seen her use blackberries before, she really went all out. J used to make fun of the piles of bread on the counter every time he came over for dinner at my parents' place, but I wasn't all that surprised when she made a beeline for the kitchen, her arms weighed down with the fruit plate, a blueberry pie, roasted lentil dip, and (no joke) six loaves of bread and bread-like things from our favourite bakery.

In the end it was a rather impressive spread, and the fact that it was such a true collaboration of love made it even more scrumptious:
vegan chocolate turtles (recipe to follow)
smoked salmon, bagels, and cream cheese (the latter two brough by Mel's mom and dad)
chicken sausages from the farmer's market -grilled by J
buttermilk pancakes - Mel's addition (recipe from the Joy of Cooking)
banana white chocolate chip muffins - a family tradition in miniature
Mom's amazing fruit platter

Vegan Chocolate Turtles:
start with fresh Medjool dates
score lengthwise and remove the pit
replace with a toasted walnut or almond
seal shut with your fingers
place in a double boil of melted dark chocolate, rolling around with a spoon
remove and let cool on parchment paper


The most incredible meal I've had in ages was a few weeks ago when J and I decided to mark the anniversary of our first date by going all out on a spectacular dinner. I sent him a list of places I know to be top notch, but in the end he let me decide.

The Red Ox Inn is one of Edmonton's oldest and most highly regarded restos. Serving up fine bistro food with quality local ingredients for over 30 years, my expectations were actually exceeded by this place. It is a small restaurant - probably seats no more than 30 people. The decor is simple and elegant with rugged wood topped tables and substantial steak knives at eat setting.

Their wine list is a sight to behold and we decided to really treat ourselves with a different glass of white for each of us as our appetizers paired so much better with the crisp bright notes of unoaked Chardonnay and sweet, spicy Riesling (spinach salad with chevre and pan seared scallops respectively).

For our main courses - pork chop for J and duck breast for me - I chose a beautiful bottle of Barbera d'Asti - sweet spice of cherries and oak and a wonderful brick red colour. The duck breast was paired with a roasted fennel wrapped in prosciutto, cooked until crispy. Ugh, I was in paradise. J and I did our best to share and give tastes of everything on our plates, but I will admit at times I was hoping he wouldn't look over and see that there was something else to try.

Our better judgment to share dessert was silenced by the allure of blueberry white chocolate bread pudding and lemon tart. This photo of the empty plate was the only shot I got. We basically licked it clean.

Though I can't say that I'll be returning to the Red Ox Inn soon, it certainly was one of the most memorable meals I've ever had, and a beautiful place to celebrate being in love with J.

That's all for now - eggplant parmesan for dinner - must get a move on or the eggplant wont have enough time to drain...

Elevate yourself at Transcend on 109

I needed to get out. The house is a middle of the week mess. I've been working and sleeping the opposite hours as J. We are officially out of coffee because I didn't leave myself enough time for a cup of the already brewed pot that used up the last of the grounds. Let me explain. Roommate Mel and I thought we would be extra clever and set her fancy coffeemaker to an alarm to have some brewed for J before he left at 6:45 the next morning. It took the last of this batch of coffee to set the pot and it made a full one. Mel and I were then supposed to wake up at our more acceptable hour of 8 or 9 and pour ourselves some of the rest. Neither of us remembered and when I got home last night after work at around 10:30, the coffee was cold and the mood was tense.

J was an angel and cleaned up after the mess I left when I prepared a big pasta casserole to stretch over the next couple of busy days and nights' lunches and dinners. We are a good team and he helps me when it's my turn to get tasks finished and the last part (i.e. doing the dishes or folding the clean laundry) gets dropped as I race out the door to catch the bus to work.

Morgana came over for a visit late this morning and we drank tea in my cold house ... the furnace is still on the fritz. When she mentioned that she wanted to go out to eat even though she wasn't really hungry, I knew it wouldn't take much convincing to go on a blog-research outing.
Since the move I've been getting our coffee from Transcend Coffee.

This operation began further south near Argyle Road - a local award winning roasting house, the good folks at Transcend spend several weeks every year on coffee travel - visiting the countries where the beans are grown and agreeing to buy from individual producers at fair prices. They then import the beans to Edmonton where they continue to be roasted in small batches at the Argyle location. This cafe opened in the old Pharoah's Pizza place on the corner of 87th Ave and 109 Street. It's a big, bright cafe with really really good coffee and espresso. For weeks I had been walking past this place mid-morning, on my the long trudge home from physio, reading the lovely sandwich board extolling their cappuccino and waffle deal - hot and fresh and only $6!

Today was the day. Today was our day to take time out from school, worries, the rudding piles of snow that still line the streets, and pause and enjoy something purely for ourselves. The cappuccino was creamy and rich and artfully rendered. For our waffle toppings we could choose from maple syrup, apple brandy butter, rosemary whipped cream, and jam (which changes periodically, today was Blueberry). They get their jams straight from The Jam Lady at the Saturday Strathcona Farmer's Market.

Though I was only supposed to get one topping included with my waffle I sprang for both the maple syrup and the rosemary whipped cream and just coughed up an extra buck. Still, at $7, this is the bargain of the year, as far as I'm concerned. The baristo brought us our delectable Belgian sweets and for a good 15 minutes or so Morgana and I ate in virtual silence, stunned by sensory overload.

I highly recommend stopping in at any of the Transcend locations as soon as you are able. Give your self a bit of time to escape from everything else and lose yourself in a cup of something. But be advised, you may want to bring your Mac laptop for fear of standing out...

3 Locations:
Garneau Café
8708 - 109 Street
Edmonton, AB T6G 1E9
780.756.8882

Argyll Café
9869 - 62 Avenue
Edmonton, AB T6E 0E4
780.430.9198

***And just recently opened***
Jasper Ave Café
10349 Jasper Avenue
Edmonton, AB T5J 1Y5
780.421.7734

not all breakfasts are created equal

I love to brunch. To me, this delightful meal has gone beyond the status of mere noun and become a verb, i.e. "Hello dear fried. What are you doing next Sunday? Would you and your partner care to come brunching with us?" Eggs, hollandaise, wilted spinach, orange slices, veggie lasagna, smoked salmon, mimosas, endless coffee... that is my idea of culinary paradise. No matter where I am, whether at home or away visiting friends, I am perpetually drawn to the allure of a long, lingering late breakfast. I have my favourite places in my adopted cities of Ottawa and Montreal. I also know the best quiches, french toast, and breakfast sandwiches here in Edmonton. Recently, Vue Weekly did a feature on brunching in E-town and reviewed a number of my favourite haunts as well as exciting new restos that have opened in the past year or so. You can check out that article as well as other restaurant write-ups here. I make it my mission to try them all out. In the meantime, here are some thoughts on breakfast and the lazy hours drawing into the afternoons over friends, coffee, and conversation.

The new Urban Diner, southside
8715 109 St Tel. 780-437-7275
This was an odd experience. I had wanted to try this place out earlier, but when I showed up with a girlfriend shortly after 10 on a Wednesday morning, we found the door was locked with the hours printed on the glass stating that they didn't open until 11. What kind of breakfast place doesn't serve breakfast during breakfast time? Already this put me a bit on edge. When I returned another time with J on a Saturday we walked in to the busy dining room and were immediately informed that the lot we parked in right next to the restaurant was not for restaurant patrons and J was told he had to move his car to the customer parking in the back. There was no parking in the back. Whatever few stalls belonged to the restaurant were already occupied. Once he came back in out of the cold he had to register his vehicle with the hostess. Not a good start to brunch. Inside the restaurant patrons chatted and laughed boistrously. The din was actually so loud that J and I could hardly hear each other. I think the high ceilings and skylights, though lovely as far as ambiance goes, actually did a disservice to the place in terms of the noise level and ability to really enjoy the surroundings.

The food itself was quite good. I had the smoked salmon bennie - prepared with basil pesto, roasted bell pepper, spinach, and smothered in cheddar sauce and served on a grilled french bread with diner potatoes. It was decent. A rather large helping of potatoes with sweet potatoes mixed in was a nice surprise. J had the quiche of the day. This was definitely the highlight. J and I are on a mission to learn a foolproof, flawless quiche recipe and serve it up to our friends in our new place. This one leads the pack of samples as the most innovative. Rather than cooking the egg mixture in a flaky pastry crust this quiche was baked inside a starburst of puff pastry. The filling was ham, broccoli, and 3 cheeses.
My poached eggs were not overcooked. I hate it when cooks overdo poached eggs. Whats the point? I was, however, disappointed by the cheddar sauce and would have preferred a more traditional hollandaise, maybe with some dill or cheese mixed in. All told the sauce was actually rather bland. I don't think we'll be back here any time soon. If for no other reason than because as we walked back to J's car we noticed something yellow waving like a flag under the driver's side wiper. The poor guy got a parking ticket anyway.

A couple of weeks later, J and I were out house hunting with our friend Mel, who with her dog, Ollie, will be living with us. She and her partner Tony met us at the first house for around 9:45 on a Saturday. The place was great and we all got such a good vibe from the warm interior. The quaint little kitchen and attached dining room was my favourite part. J loved the working wood fireplace and we all got a kick out of the 70's reno job on the bathroom: diagonal cedar wood wall panelling, a skylight, and an original claw-foot bathtub. house hunting was off to a good start but we had a couple of hours to kill before our next viewing. Good thing we were all thinking breakfast.

Route 99 Diner has been around forever. Right on 99th street, it's unchanging retro diner interior is comforting and quirky. The waitresses are all no-nonsense women who never need to write orders down. Old records line the walls and the red vinyl booths are a strange comfort. Strange only because I never lived through this era and yet I feel so attached to the aesthetic appeal of this type of place. This is the kind of place I wish I knew about in highschool. It would have been a much better place to ditch school as opposed to the Humpty's across the street that we always ended up at. Don't get me wrong, I have immense fondness for that Humpty's in its own right. I got a stack of pancakes with breakfast sausages. I think I finished about half of my plate. I passed the rest over to J who had no problem finishing my meal as well as his omelette and hashbrowns. Mel, true to form, got chicken finger with hash browns instead of fries, which they happily accommodated. Tony got bacon and eggs. I sometimes hesitate over the choice between bacon and sausage in breakfast joints because I've had too many strips of limp, mostly fat, greasy bacon. Not so here. Hers were crisp with an equal ration of meat to fat.

Maybe I'm biased, but simple really is better sometimes. Route 99 has been hitting it out of the park for years by staying true to their formula. Straight forward, no frills food served fresh and hot without any pretension.

Route 99 Diner
8820 99 St. Tel. 780-432-0968

Of course, there are also those spots that serve exactly what you want to eat, breakfast, lunch, and diner. The Sugarbowl was Edmonton's saving grace when I was first adjusting to the though of leaving Ottawa and Montreal and returning to my hometown. The thought of 8 months of remorseless winter and what I thought was a veritable culinary wasteland was depressing to say the least. But my memories of summer days on the patio drinking Blanche de Chambly on tap and frosty winter nights ensconced in scintillating conversation over smoked paprika popcorn and applewood smoked cheddar mac and cheese saved me from my worst food nightmares. Coming home I rediscovered the Sugarbowl and came to love it for morning breakfast catchup dates with girlfriends studying at the university down the road. Especially their Huevos Rancheros... I've had them before and been unable to finish more than about half of my plate. So thinking ahead, this time I got a half order. And it was so tasty looking that I forgot to get a shot of it before I dug in. Poached egg, black and white beans, cilantro, and homemade salsa all atop a fried corn tortilla accompanied by more salsa as well as guacamole and sour cream. This dish is a pleasant escape from the frigid temperatures outside. Memories of a much warmer climate and the sound of distant waves wash over me with every bite. I'm hesitant to share.

The Sugarbowl
10922 88th Ave. Tel. 780-433-8369

The atmosphere here is one of its greatest draws. A little bit industrial with exposed red brick walks and air ducts, and little bit offbeat with mismatched wooden tables, and very grounded in the Edmonton food and art scene with local artists' work lining the walls and local ingredients figuring prominently in the daily specials. I love The Sugarbowl. At breakfast, lunch, or dinner or straddling multiple mealtimes. I can easily while away my days here with free wireless that let's me update my blog and plan tonight's dinner. FYI - chicken chorizo sausage in a spicy tomato sauce with pene pasta and a feta and dill green salad. Possibly flourless chocolate cake if I have time.

Oh, and in case you were wondering, we signed the lease on the cute little house with the fireplace last week. Keep your eyes peeled for posts from my new kitchen coming soon!

rags to riches

Sometimes I marvel at the vicissitudes of life. When I last wrote, my whole family was together, it was summertime, and I was simply blissful having spent an afternoon picking raspberries on a farm just outside of Edmonton. Today I'm sipping Remy Martin XO, looking out over Lake Edith and swooning adoringly into my love’s eyes, not a sister or great aunt in sight. I’ve been dreaming of Italian adventures and doing everything but praying that I get into grad school. Maybe I should consider praying… I suppose it couldn’t hurt.

Normally I spend Labour Day weekend watching the Eskimos play in Calgary and taking in pier sections from a near-freezing lake. You'd be surprised how fetching hip-waders can actually be... This year I decided to get out of town completely.

We spent last night at the Chateau Lake Louise, driving out after I finished work. It was a late start by the time we actually got on the highway and it rained intermittently the whole way up. A rather impressive flourish of rain came down at the end. We drove through the dark woods on either side and were awestruck as the illuminated windows of the castle came into view. We had planned to spend hours whiling away in the Walliser Stube fondue lounge, but by the time we got in all we wanted was room service and a big comfy bed. Unfortunately we were so overwhelmed by the splendour upon our arrival that I forgot my camera in the car that night.

But in case you were wondering, I had a grilled salmon pita with a side salad and Joey had a rather extraordinary grilled vegetable wrap with roasted pepper spread and perfectly cooked homemade french fries. Together we polished off a lovely bottle of Pinot Noir from Oregon made by Wine by Joe, 2008. The salmon was cooked perfectly and came apart with my fork in delicate but firm flakes. We didn’t have dessert, but at that hour it’s probably a good thing. It was only the one night that we stayed at the Chateau, but it was altogether memorable.

Yesterday we slept in a little and came down for lunch in the lounge, gazing out at Lake Louise from the wide, Palladian windows that line the main floor façade. Though my onion soup was generally forgettable, the wild boar bacon and chanterelle mushroom quiche was rich enough to share, leaving Joey's roasted vegetable sandwich as a snack for the road, which we packaged up and took with us. He also had a soup of the day, which was a creamy potato and parsnip. I like the idea of this soup better than we liked the actual thing in front of us, so now it’s going into my bank of things to experiment.

The drive from Lake Louise to Jasper is a lot longer than I remember. Not realizing the distance, we had to make good time once we got moving. Before we got back onto the highway we stopped briefly in the village for a coffee and a snack. Do yourself a favour and get an almond macaroon or a pizza bagel from Laggan’s Mountain Bakery. I got both and was not the least bit sorry.

(Right: the only bite of the legendary macaroon I was able to capture before devouring the whole thing)

Arriving late again in Jasper we checked in, unpacked in the room, and went straight for the room service menu. I decided to go big. I figure, when will I ever again be able to go all out in a place like this? Heck, I can only afford such an extravagant holiday because I work for the company. Next time I visit these places, I’ll likely be sleeping in a tent. So I ordered the 7 oz. filet mignon with buttered mashed potatoes. Joey got the spinach and ricotta cannelloni with a tomato sauce, which came with the additional cream for the sauce on the side. A very thoughtful touch, we both thought, being able to add as much or as little cream as he liked. My steak was cooked to perfection. It can’t be easy to prepare a steak for transport to a little cabin away from the central kitchen and ensure that it still arrives cooked rare, pink in the middle. The meat was tender and seasoned simply with salt and pepper, slightly charred on the outside adding a caramel flavour to each juicy bite.
Even a small cut like the filet I found a bit too much for me, but I never feel bad leaving things on my plate. I just don’t think it’s healthy to insist on cleaning one’s plate, nor was it ever insisted by my mother that I do so. I hate it when people remark at how much or little I eat, that’s my own damn business.
Oh yes, and we paired the late supper with a Chilean Syrah, very good value for dollar on this bottle – spicy, bold, and a little supple in the mouthfeel, a great food pairing wine.
(Right: My perfect room-service steak)

Anyway, we had thought about getting the big to-do brunch delivered to the room this morning, but decided to not be lazy bums and got our asses into comfy seats at the window’s of the lounge, just off the main lodge’s lobby. Looking out over yet another beautiful lake, we relished at the arrival of a big french press full of fresh coffee. We were hungry, but I knew I couldn’t eat anything too rich after last night, so we decided to split the smoked salmon Eggs Benedict. It was taking a long time, but our server brought us fresh orange juice and a fresh press of coffee, apologising for the delay. We weren’t really bothered, having found ourselves in such a paradise. When the food finally came, I was amazed by what lay in front of me. The egg was perfectly poached. Breaking it open let loose a flow of rich creamy yolk, and the hollandaise was lemony and quite light. The roasted fingerling potatoes were well cooked too – fluffy inside, but slightly crispy on the outside, the feel of the skins breaking between my teeth as I sunk them in. On the side was half a roasted roma tomato. A perfect meal to split, especially washed down with freshly squeezed orange juice and more hot coffee.
(Right: A half-order of the smoked salmon Benny)

Currently I’m sitting in front of that same window overlooking the lake, having gone for a swim and cleaned myself up a bit. Alert, but relaxing next to a warm snifter of Remy Martin XO, I don’t think I can honestly say that I’ve ever been more content. Tra la… I wonder what the soup of the day is…(Centre: view from my window in the Emerald Lounge at the Jasper Park Lodge)

montreal delights

Montreal. It evokes in my mind a city of light, of culture, and most certainly of some of the best food in North America. The most common refrain of its utterly European style and lifestyle makes you feel like you are in a place where everyone is zigging in a country where people are known for zagging. Montreal is groovy. It's old and up late and may boast some of the best ethnic food in Canada. Even its high-end designer, haute cuisine establishments are serving up artistic creations topped with infused foams and strange and exciting fungi.
Montreal, not unlike Toronto in this respect, strikes me as one of the brunchiest towns I've ever had the pleasure of dining in. Very good eggs and toast places with charm and character pop up all over the place. Visiting this city with sisters as my guides, I have eaten some very yummy late-morning-breakfast-lingering-into-long-afternoon-coffee-and-walking-around meals. This time I returned to L'Anecdote on Rachel and Saint-Hubert. The inside of it is deceptively large. The front area is very retro and has big cosy red leather booths with wide windows that look out onto Saint-Hubert. Further back bigger tables are available for larger groups. In the front, dessert and chrome sparkle to greet the new customers.
An old friend from art history met me by the Sherbrook metro and we walked over together. The trouble is, we got so wound up in visiting and coffee that I sort of forgot to take a before shot. This is what was left of a very large and tasty diner breakfast. Delicious.


Then we continued strolling and ended up on a mission for beer. My friend was about to move and the occasion definitely called for a couple cold ones. We discovered a very interesting deppanneur on Duluth. Lots of locally microbrewed beers at a very good price with mix and match deals. Ultimately, we found a very pretty little spot to get ice cream on Saint Denis called Au Festin de Babette. He had orange chocolate and I had pistachio.
Later in the afternoon, I met two of my very best friends at the bus terminal, down the street from my sister's apartment where I had been staying. We wrapped our arms around each other, said a quick hello while they freshened up back at my sister's, and we were back out on Saint Denis. We stopped for a quick bite and a slice of pie at Rockaberry (mocha tiramisu, which we saved for later) and then shopped the afternoon sun away. As it set we headed to our hotel, The Queen Elizabeth, and checked it. After another quick recharge, we returned to the Plateau where my fabulous sister was waiting to join us for dinner at one of my favourite restaurants in Montreal.
Just a short walk down Saint Denis from my sister's house is Chuch, a vegan Thai restaurant with the most remarkable fake meat I've ever eaten. The textures are so real and the sauces are so flavourful that I enjoy it as much if not more so that non-vegan Thai food. The four of us went crazy. Though there was only one vegetarian among us, I would describe the lot of us as more or less flexitarian. The vegetable dumplings went so fast I didn't get a chance to take a picture of them. When the rest of the food arrived, I was sure to keep my wits about me before having at it like the lost boys in Hook.
We each chose a non-meat or a sauce that sounded scrumptious and got a few helpings of rice to round things off. My sister was incredibly helpful in recommending her favourite dishes, and I usually take my cue from experts when they know more than me in a resto. The four of us shared Chicken in red and green curries, Beef in three sauces, and duck with deliciously guilt free crispy skin.We shared two bottles of white wine - a Gewurztraminer than needed to be way more chilled than it was, but was still quite promising - and a Pinot Grigio.
At this point in the story I should probably tell you that I was in Montreal celebrating my birthday... that officially began at midnight and was rung in with mocha tiramisu pie for the birthday cake. Sorry dear readers, that I have no picture of that magical moment either. But I can tell you that when the three of us friends woke up in out big comfy beds in the Queen E the next morning, and before we checked out and left town, we said goodbye to Montreal in style, with room service.