It is a truth universally acknowledged that all posts about madeleines must contain a reference to Proust. Because everyone (even people who have never actually read a thing by Proust) know that he had a serious thing for these little shell-shaped pastries.
High-brow literary references aside, there's a good reason that madeleines inspire such adoration. They're neither cookie nor cake, but somewhere in the middle, and utterly perfect for dunking into a mug of hot tea....
Summertime Saturday mornings are sacred. No matter what else I might have planned, every Saturday from early June to late October always follows the same schedule: sleep in as late as the cat will let me, laze in bed with a trashy book until 8:30 or so, shuffle out of bed and into some mostly-presentable clothes, and then make my way to the local farmers' market.
Our little market may not look like much, but I can usually count on the vendors to carry some interesting fruits and vegetables that you can't find at the supermarket. (Fresh callalloo leaves, anyone?)
Since we're headed into the peak of Ontario's harvest, last weekend's trip to the market was especially fruitful, if you'll pardon the pun. I came home with fresh string beans, heirloom tomatoes, and best of all, a basket of beautiful dark purple damson plums....
Sing it with me now... These scones are bananas. B-A-N-A-N-A-S.
(Sorry, couldn't resist. Where's the nearest Punaholics Anonymous meeting? I think it might be time for an intervention.)...
Everyone loves a timeless classic. A tailored little black dress. A warm apple pie with a shatteringly flaky crust. A right proper Manhattan on the rocks.
That said, anyone who knows me well will tell you that I usually prefer my classics with a twist. I pair my little black dresses with a funky pair of shoes or a coloured tights. I like to add sharp cheddar to the crust for my apple pie. And I'm a total sucker for a maple Manhattan.
And then there's this cake, which I like to think is a perfect example of an old-school classic with a new-school twist. It all started with a recipe from Second Helpings, Please!, which was the must-have gift for an entire generation of Jewish-Canadian brides....
I like to think that citrus fruits are the universe's way of apologizing for the misery that is Canadian winters, like a promise that warmer days are just around the corner.
Canadian weather being what it is, you'll probably have to tough it out through a couple of late-March snow flurries, but at least that's a good excuse to hide indoors and bake cake....
It's development plan season at work, which means that I've spent a good chunk of the past month evaluating my strengths and opportunities, and figuring out what I want to be when I grow up.
(For those of you who don't work in the corporate world, "opportunity" is just a nicer way of saying "things I'm not very good at".)
According to the various tests and assessments I've done, there are several things I'm not very good at. I'm not very organized, I have a short attention span, and I'm a little bit too honest. Go figure.
On the bright side, I scored high on creativity, analytical thinking, and strategic planning. So there's that....
When it comes to guilty indulgences, I have more than my fair share. The occasional expensive latte on my afternoon coffee break? Yup. Lying in bed for an extra hour on weekends? Double yup. A great pair of shoes, especially if they're on sale? Absolutely. Gooey sweet desserts? Not so much.
Yup. Despite what you might thing from reading this blog, I don't really have much of a sweet tooth. Honestly, I'd much rather save the calories for savoury treats, like gooey soft cheeses or fresh-baked bread.
I do, however, make an exception for certain things....
Can you believe it's already December? I'm not sure I'm ready to say goodbye to 2016 just yet, but before we close the book on another year, there's still a whole lot of fun and celebrations to be had.
As a mixed kind-of-Jewish and kind-of-Catholic household, we've never decorated much the holidays, especially now that we've started spending the week of Christmas in Rhode Island with my sister, spoiling our nephews rotten. No tree, no baubles, no menorah....
We've reached that point of the fall where everything is golden and lovely. There's a hazy golden quality to the late afternoon sunshine, and the last few leaves left on the enormous maples that tower over my neighbourhood are shades of ochre and canary and amber.
Is there such a thing as the dog days of fall? Because if so, this is it... those last few perfect days before we plunge into the frigid depths of Toronto winters....
Call me basic, but I love me a pumpkin spice latte. More specifically, a half-sweet, non-fat, no-whip, extra-hot pumpkin spice latte with an extra dash of cinnamon on top.
(Yes, I'm one of those people. But seriously... if I'm paying over $5 for a coffee, I want it to be just right.)...
This is a sponsored post written by me on behalf of Loblaws Companies Inc.. All opinions are 100% mine.
We’ve officially reached my very favourite part of summer in Toronto.
No, not the part where it gets so unbearably hot that opening the front door feels like getting blasted in the face with a hair dryer. I’m talking about the fact that Ontario peach season is finally upon us....
There's a particular kind of heat that comes to Toronto in the mid-summer, when the air gets so heavy and thick and hot that you could swear you're walking through a giant city-sized sauna. Even the breeze doesn't bring relief when it comes, because it's only just moving the hot air around.
Those are the days that call for hiding indoors, where it's cool and air conditioned, preferably with a big bowl of ice cream....
I love making homemade fruit sorbets, but I don't love the fact that I have to remember to stick the tub for my ice cream maker into the freezer the day before. I'm more of an instant gratification kind of gal, especially when it comes to summertime desserts.
The problem is that planning ahead isn't exactly my strong suit. And waiting at least 24 hours to satisfy my craving for delicious sorbet? Yeah, not gonna happen either....
No, that's not one of my usual punny titles... I really have been blogging for ten years.
According to my archives, I wrote my first post ever on June 2nd, 2006.
Back in those days, cell phones didn't have cameras, social media was virtually non-existent, and most people had no idea what the heck a blog was but assumed it was something rather unpleasant. As for me, I was a twenty-something corporate flunkie with a one-bedroom apartment near Christie Pits, a flat(ish) belly, a scrappy little tabby cat, and cute boyfriend I'd started dating a year earlier....
Do you have a particular food that you hoard in massive quantities because you're afraid you might run out one day and not be able to get more right away?
I'm like that with rhubarb. Every summer, I cram as many large bags full of chopped rhubarb as I can fit into my freezer to tide me through until the next spring, just like a squirrel stashes away nuts to last through the winter.
(If squirrels had little squirrel-sized semi-detached houses with chest freezers in the basement, that is... which they don't, though probably not for lack of trying.)...
I might be jinxing myself right now, but it looks like spring is finally here... though for a while there I was starting to wonder if we were in for a years-long Westeros style winter.
Anyone who's spent a couple of years in Toronto will tell you that our springs are notoriously fickle, but this might be the first April in my 30-odd years here that within a two-week span we went from this......
When it comes to romancing your beloved on Valentine's Day, some people swear by a dozen red roses and their patented Best of Barry White playlist, while others prefer to woo their sweetheart over an expensive candlelit dinner at a fancy-shmancy restaurant.
Personally, I don't get all that excited by roses or by Barry White, and I can't stand being herded into a jam-packed restaurant to eat an overpriced meal while trying not to bump elbows with the next table over....
Welcome back to Christmas Week, friends!
Today's recipe is inspired by one of my favourite wintertime rituals, which involves curling up with a big mug of hot cocoa topped off with a big fat marshmallow.
My version of hot cocoa is as straightforward as it gets - just hot milk with cocoa powder and sugar whisked in, though I do add a dash of ground cinnamon to give it a little extra oomph.
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I don't normally pay all that much attention to food holidays, mostly because they're usually pretty weirdly specific.
I mean, do we really need a National Strawberry Ice Cream Day? And if so, why the heck is it in the middle of January, when it's dark and cold and everyone is still trying to stick to their new year's resolutions, which means the last thing anyone wants is ice cream, strawberry or otherwise?
I am, however, more than willing to make an exception for National Coffee Day on September 29th, because if there's one food group that I absolutely cannot live without, it's coffee....
Now that we're well and firmly into September, I know I'm supposed to be turn the page on summer and start thinking about fall things like apples and cinnamon and pumpkins and caramel.
I guess I must be in a contrary mood, though, because I couldn't resist getting one last hit of summer flavours before I close this chapter for one more year.
As we speak, I'm spending my Labour Day long weekend in Rhode Island, filling up on as much of summer as I can.
I'm thinking of it as a farewell tour for summer's greatest hits. Big slices of watermelon, frosty cups of frozen lemonade, tacos by the sea shore, farmers' markets and artisan fairs, and yes... even a beach day....
If there's anyone who knows how to life the good life, it's Italians. They are, after all, the ones who coined the whole philosophy of la dolce vita, the one smidge of Italian almost everyone knows, even if they don't speak a single word of actual Italian.
It turns out that Sicilians totally take the sweet life to a new level, though. Did you know they actually eat ice cream for breakfast?
(Yes, I know we've all done it at least once in the comfort of our homes, but you have to admire a culture where it's actually acceptable to do it right in the open.)...
Like most obsessive bakers, I have a bucket list of classic baked goods I'd like to try out before I head off to the big bakery in the sky.
Some I've already made - laminated dough for danishes and croissants, choux pastry for eclairs and creampuffs, frosted layer cakes, ice cream sandwiches completely from scratch, and I even turned out a half-decent batch of macarons thanks to a class taught by the macaron mistress herself, Mardi at eat.live.travel.write.
One I hadn't tried yet was the classic French cannelé, a little pastry with a glossy crisp mahogany-brown exterior and a soft custardy centre that's part popover, part cake, and all awesomeness....
True confession time. I don't particularly care for cupcakes. Yes, I know that they were all the rage about 15 minutes ago, but I'm totally on Team Donut when it comes to faddish desserts.
Don't get me wrong. I don't particularly hate cupcakes, either. My problem is that enormous swirl of tooth-aching sweet frosting that most bakeries insist on using, as if an egregious quantity of buttercream will somehow compensate for a dry, subpar cupcake. When it comes to frosting, I'm firmly convinced that less is most definitely more.
What I do love, however, is coffee....
February is over. Technically, that means we just have three weeks of winter left to go, but somehow that always feels like the longest, dreariest three weeks in the whole wide world because I'm so damned fed up of all the cold and snow.
I'm tired of throwing on the same heavy down parka and clunky boots each morning, I'm tired of wearing layer upon layer to stay warm, and I'm tired of trudging through slushy sidewalks on my commute to work.
...
