Earthday Birthday

Made turkey cutlets with proscuitto and caper sauce the other day. Make that chicken cutlet with porcetta and caper sauce.



It was very good and even Artemis, the no-eat wonder liked it. It was from this month's gourmet - the first of many.


It is my birthday, and I am sitting here writing silently lest I wake the sick one. Nem is sleeping beside me on the couch, Artemis in her crib. The weather is beautiful and I'm itching to go to run to be outside, but my girls are too sick.

I feel much too young to be 35. Does everyone feel that way? Does everyone have an age with which they identify most strongly? I think Im either 14 or 23. I don't think everyone would pick those ages - some people might want more control, more responsibility.

Not me.

I'm not feeling particularly contemplative this birthday. I woke up remembering that exactly 10 years ago I had my very first panic attack. I had been skiing all day at Sunshine, and gotten dehydrated. I ended up in the hospital in Calgary, where they gave me Demorol to subdue my frantic attempts to rip out my IV. Ah, bliss. I could sleep on an ice cube in a rat infested prison and be positively cosy, given enough demorol.

So no big shenanigans are planned for today, poor me. Nemy is moaning in her sleep beside me, poor doll. Im chugging acidophilus to outcompete any of her little stinkers. Why don't humans take phage as an antibiotic? Doesnt that seem totally the next step in antibiotics?



I tried Miege's bread again, but the middle was dough. I give up. I cannot bake bread to save my life right now.

Miege's Bread

I swear Im going to give up baking. This was supposedly an easy day - an instant yeast bread whipped up last minute for a picnic later in the afternoon. Firstly, I run out of parchment, and foolishly used wax paper in place. Don't ever do this. It fuses with the bread and cannot be separated. Fine, so I cut off the bottom crust and it was OK. The second loaf sat out over night and I woke in the morning to find a mouse had neatly chewed a hole inside. I half expected to find him/her, but there was nothing but crumbs. I was somewhat annoyed that Y. didn't want to eat it after that ( all my hard work, yadda yadda yadda).






As fine as this was, I cannot handle commercial yeast any more. The flavour and texture just aren't satisfying.

I am at a loss of things to report as I can simply not compete with QueenMJ's posting today.

1)Start dressing better.
2)Bathe daily
3)Attempt makeup
4)Consider non-surgical cosmetic procedures


This too, after an evening where I was subjugated to Michael Ondataadje's daughter this, and Timothy Taylor that


And man, do I ever feel like a big zero.

As I walked out one morning.....walking down Norwich street

Anemone and I were looking out the window this morning, looking down Norwich Street. It was around 9am, she was late but we were in no hurry.

Around the same time, we both saw a large goose walking up the hill towards us. Strange. The goose was high stepping. Rather daintily. Stranger.

The goose had a waddle.

The goose was a wild turkey!

It walked right up the hill, jumped onto our side walk and deeked into the neighbours yard. I ran out in my stockings, Artemis screaming bloody murder, and all I got was this shot.

Not an Ivory Billed Woodpecker, no, but close.

Pursuits are for the childless

Well the weekend is almost done and there is no menu to report...in fact as I write this I have a chatterbox at my side, talking a mile a minute, trying to engage me in a multitude of conversations despite my attempts to disdain. In fact, she is reading as I write, looking for an opportunity to contribute. The kid is amphetamines in tights.

The point being I cannot get anything done around here!!!!!!!!!!!

So forget about cooking. Photographing? The menu this weekend:

Friday night - cottage cheese and melon
Saturday night - Wendy's
Sunday night - God help us all.


I did manage to peruse the new Gourmet and have highlighted at least 10 recipes, and booked my ticket to Italy.

She is now perched beside me, enthusiastically savouring her minkies. I gotta go.

Baching it

It is 930, and the girls have only just gone down. They were crazed tonight - neither of them could sleep at all so I let them stay up in my bed and we read stories, though I was JUNKSING for some down time.

Today was an odd day...so hazy, cold grey sky. Jennifer had to finish a paper so I came home at lunch. How much should I reveal in this blog? I felt this afternoon like my neural network was suffering - I wanted a hit of sugar, directly to the brain, a shot of pure, unadultered caffeine to jolt me out of my stupor. When I look at my life, I think most of my adulthood has been spent in a painful, fuzzy state. How do I break out?

Reading Alice Water's biography and what impresses me most is her confidence, her drive, her action. She was completely untrained, unprepared, and yet she ploughed through. Where does one find that energy? That drive? I've been chasing it, salivating over it since I was a kid. I am finding the writing a bit rough, though. DId anyone else find they were distracted by poor writing/editing?

I think I would do well to be more of a perfectionist. Alice would toss anything that wasn't perfect. The slap-dash mishaps and leftovers I pawn off on people.....

Kotopitta me feta

Two days after the fact. Sometimes I'm just not in the mood for a party. Y's lab and the visiting speaker. Fortunately it was nice, so we sat on the deck for awhile. The pitta was good, I think, I never had any.

The creme fraiche - well that was so good that there isn't a photo of it. It disappeared. I was a bit hesitant to serve it (with strawberries and brown sugar) as I couldnt guarantee all my guests wouldnt get sick.

I tried to talk ecology, but unfortunately all I could ask were questions about the usefulness of our work, i.e. what's the point of it all ? Not a really fire burner of a conversation in a room full of ecologists.

Met with the director of research at Food Tech Centre - a Cyrpriot who is fiercly loyal - to his roots (ethnically Greek of course) and alma matter (he and Y shared a supervisor). He was good to talk to and encouraged my line of thinking - I think there may well be a wide open playing field. And so I am now attempting to set up a collaboration with the cheese guy on campus - I can always switch to wine in the Okanagan.

And yet all of these are vapours - what Im left with is the reality of the quotidien. Go to work. Re-edit that paper. Make supper. Go to bed. Will it ever really coallesce? Is change possible without drugs? Are we destined to plod ahead in the same path, despite our highest hopes and best intentions? When I was 11, Theresa imparted the axiom "the more things change the more they stay the same." Is that true?

I hope not. We were on a walk down Cambridge street - actually the street perpendicular to Cambrigde -the one closest to the hill, going down town. I was fretting about some impending change: was it dad leaving? Melissa going? Move to Dundee? I don't remember.

But here I am, still fretting about change.

Banana Choco Muffins and no cheese course

I made these yesterday, actually. They are Nancy's (as in Silverton) and great (as in everything she does). Delivered a plate next door to Shirley and they were gone before the transaction was complete. Was delighted to see that she has a handsome, fawn chihuahua. Oh! My goodness! That's Pepito!! You wouldn't recognize the beefy, little stud!

I tried to get into the Cheese course and it is full. My disappointment surprised me. Now Im convinced that I must make cheese.

And what else? A supper tomorrow for Brendan Bohannan - Greek, of course. What else do I make these days? What else is there to want? Will post the results tomorrow (or the next day depending on my level of fatigue).

Sleep. Must sleep.

End of culinology and paneer

Culinology ended with a bang: a molecular gastronomy demo. It was fantastic: lychee 'caviar', carbonated strawberries, 'doughnut' ice cream, citrus snow, lime foam on dessicated strawberries. This, and the news that Herve This will be in TO this month....There with bells on. (He created the discipline of Molecular Gastronomy).

And so this weekend, a little gastronomy of my own. My first attempt at homemade cheese.



Making fresh cheese is easy enough, provided you actually follow some procedure. You can see here I am heating the milk. Unfortunately, I didn't leave it long enough for the protein to adequately denature. So, when I added my acid, I kept adding and adding and adding with no palpable curds. Eventually I saw microscopic curds, so I stopped and strained.



The resulting paneer was very good, almost feta but not as salty. However, in the future, denature your proteins!


I suppose I should have a photo of the saag panner that this was made for, but we ate it all! I would suggest making your own paneer...it is terribly easy and very good. As for aged cheese, wait until I've taken my five day cheese making course. I'm addicted to these courses.

I cannot compete, however, with Melissa's joie de vivre. Girl what are you ON? It's certainly not my junk - can I have some too? You are so frisky and full of life....I feel downright invertebrate in contrast....

Theresa, I'm going to Colborne Lane for my B-day supper. Care to fly down and join me for Claudio's tasting menu???

Culinology Day 2

Today we learned about protein, gums, emulsifiers, and additives. You could tell the timbre of the room, when the gums talk was over, the heretofore mum crowd was clamouring with questions. Goes to show you what the food industry is all about: fillers.

Processed food is an elaborate, highly choreographed dance with chemicals. Tread carefully.

My buddy in the course is Hans, a retired food scientist from Pennsylvania. He is Woody Allen if he had worked for Kraft instead. He's got a New York twang, and an anecdote for every iconic processed food from the past 35 years. Infact, he developed not only Tang and Popping Rocks, but Fruity Pebbles, too.

Yet another grant was rejected for my research program. I'm trying to continue, but on what?

Culinology I

Today was my first day as a student again. At the end of the day there was a quiz. I raced through it, slammed down my pencil, and then looked triumphantly around to see who else was done. I love being a student. Everything is just so damn clear.

The course itself is no epiphany. It is science for non scientists. You'd be surprised at how much organic chemistry is retained 15 years later. So I dominate the class with my incessant questions...tyring to get answers to things Im genuinely interested in but the class is skirting around. Such as, what exactly is stevia? Whats the difference between hydrogenated and trans fats? What artificial sweetener is the most dangerous? That kind of thing. So I guess I am learning a bit. (Trans fats bad, hydrogenated fats not so much; aspartame not so bad; Splenda scary stuff).

The class is a somewhat inert bunch of research chefs employed for major corporations (I.e, Campells, Heinz) and they are mostly American.

And you may ask yourself: well, how did I get here?

Kotopoulo Yiaourtava

Have not done justice to Diane Konchilas since Pitsa has been here. This chicken in yogurt was quite good, though I would have browned the chicken first, and added lemon juice/peel to the yogurt sauce.

Tonight it is windy and the sky is spitting hard, little ice pellets. Yianni is in Kelowna. It is 10 pm and I just got Anemone in bed (I think I might have to tie her down). I, similarly, cannot sleep. I am afraid that shrink may have a point: I feel downright manic. Not to be confused with elated, or high. I feel my thoughts are rushed, circular, out of control . Things are too fast, too confusing. My driving is bad. I'm spending too much money at grocery stores and Shoppers Drug Mart. It is 10:30 - I've been up forever and will not be able to sleep for hours.....It feels dangerous.

Does everybody feel that they need to achieve some sort of status through their career? Some level of recognition? Does everyone feel like they have a responsibility to contribute to society, to culture to the planet? Does faffing about with bread microbes amount to any sort of contribution?
Does writing bad prose?

Does picking fluff out of your navel?

How about I set my bar for basic hygeine, and go from there.

Now, about that fluff.....