Will Travel for Good Food

The intrepid foodie in Toronto (or any city really) knows that in a city with urban sprawl like ours, to say that you're only eating downtown can become a little limiting after a while. If you have the time, access to a vehicle, or are in other parts of the city, it might be worth it to venture out of your comfort zone to have a meal. And if you do really love food, these can become "food adventures," and a way to while away an afternoon or an evening.
I've been told that the best place in Toronto to have dosa (South Indian crepes stuffed with potatoes or other items) is on Lawrence East. I still have to ascertain the exact location from my folks, but why would I think of going to Udupi Palace on Gerrard (or Trinity Bellwoods, *shudder*), as adequate as they are, when there might be something better a little trip away . And I've known for a while that the best places to have dim sum are in North York, Willowdale, and Richmond Hill.
A few weeks ago I was at The Mixmaster's place for a relaxing weekend. Well, relaxing in that we hussled up to Unionville, which took 2 hours each way, to see the Automatistes Revolution exhibit at the Varley Gallery. The Mixmaster was eager to take me to have Gujarati vegetarian thali at Markham and Lawrence afterwards. The place is called Govardhan Thal, it is two block north of Lawrence, and their number is 416-438-0544. For a mere $5.25 we received rice, 5 puris, 4-5 subjies (vegetable dishes), daal, churdi (a savoury, milky, yoghurty dish), and shrikund (a milk-based dessert, on this occasion with dates and pistachios). The memories that were unearthed by the food, memories of my mom's cooking, of trips to Surat, India were bittersweet and healing. And the food was good, and plentiful; the one thali served me for 3 nostalgic meals. If I hadn't opened myself up to moving about the city seeking out new food experiences, I would have missed this quintessential diasporic moment.
So, check out the suburbs, revisit the haunts of your old hood, and pack a magazine or an ipod. Most of the new immigrant communities in Toronto, I feel, live in the suburbs, so supporting these businesspeople is imperative.

Memories of Napoli: Part 1

About half way through my fall trip to Italy, The Mixmaster and I traveled to Napoli (Naples), a small town a few hours away from Rome. We weren't spending much time there, as we were on our way to the Pompeii ruins, but knowing that Napoli has some of the best pizza in Italy, and probably the world, a stop for a pie seemed like an absolute necessity. In Italy, most of the places we went to sold individual pies and not slices; they baked them for you fresh, and often in a wood burning oven. On our first day in Rome, we were amazed to be presented with what would be about the size of a Canadian "small" pizza, per person! But with all the walking, sometimes for 8 hours or more a day, we quickly got used to the increased portions. Italian pizzas are often lighter on the cheese, and it is focalized in the middle of the pie. But one thing that our palates quickly discerned to be the difference between Canadian and Italian pizzas (besides the thin, crispy crust) was the sauce.
Most North American pizzas that I've had, including the fabled New York pizza, seem to use ground tomatoes spiced with herbs for their sauce. The sauces in Italy were tangier, lighter in taste and colour. We soon realized that they were either made from scratch from ripe tomatoes, which don't have the sweet-ish taste of ground tomatoes, or they were made from canned plum tomatoes, pulsed in a blender with herbs. It made a world of a difference.
So, having disembarked from our train, we knew where we wanted to go, Pizzeria Gino Sorbillo (Via dei Tribunali 32, 081-446643), but not how to get there. And the circuitous streets and narrow lanes of Napoli took some getting used to. We finally arrived at our Pizzeria, a little testy with each other, and with our bellies growling. The pizzas at Gino Sorbillo were everything that the guide book said that they might be. There were a multitude of choices, exciting combinations, with prices ranging from 2.50 euros to about 8.00 euros. I had the Pugliese, with capricciosa, pomodoro, mozzarella, olive, prosciutto, funghi, and carciofini for 6 euros. It was as yummy and flavourful (with a smoky taste due to the well cured meats) as my hastily snapped photo suggests.
Oh, and on the walk to your next destination, you might want to pick up some famous fried risotto and cheese balls, at Di Matteo, located on the same street at number 94. They always have a crowd waiting patiently for them, and they are one of the things that Napoli is known for.
So, how does one go from Italian pizza with all it's tastes and textures to Pizza Pizza (note that there's no link...)? In part two of my post, I will detail, with recipes, my attempts at the perfect home pizza (which I made for a recent anniversary with a certain special someone).

Nothing Says "I Love You" Like Hollandaise Sauce

...With profound apologies to all the vegans out there.
Hollandaise sauce has always been one of those recipes that I've been dying to make. Having grown up eating mostly Indian food, I've always had a fascination with continental foods. At Christmas time, we always made Eggs Benedict, and after trying to make a hollandaise at home, I now realize that the endeavor is a labour of love.
Hollandaise is a emulsification of the yolk of eggs, butter, and vinegar, with pepper and lemon sometimes adding spice and tang. It is a French sauce, and was made as early as 1651 by Francois Pierre La Varenne in his groundbreaking book Le Cuisinier Francois. However, the sauce mimics a Dutch sauce, hence the "holland" in hollandaise. It is considered one of the 5 mother sauces in French cooking.
Last Saturday, I made hollandaise sauce with artichokes, and stuffed pasta shells for an early holiday dinner for The Mixmaster. I altered an Epi recipe, and came up with what you see below. A few notes: Feel free to add a squirt or two of extra lemon for tartness; I found with the vinegar that my recipe was tart enough. Also, I used black pepper. All the recipes I found beg you to use white. But what's wrong with a little colour? I liked the flecks throughout the sauce. And finally, when rewarming the sauce, be sure to do so on low heat. Separated hollandaise can really be a downer at one's otherwise festive holiday brunch...


Recipe (for 1 1/2 cups):

2 tablespoons pure white vinegar
3 tablespoons cold water
1/4 teaspoons salt
black pepper to taste
3 large egg yolks (preferably free run)
2 sticks butter (1 cup), unsalted, cut into 1 tablespoons pieces and softened
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice (optional, if you like it very tart)

• Boil vinegar, 2 T water, salt, and black pepper in medium saucepan with a heavy bottom, until reduced to about 2 tablespoons (this happens quickly).
  
• Remove from heat and add additional tablespoon of water.
• Whisk in yolks and cook over very low heat, whisking constantly, until thickened (be careful not to scramble yolks). I had the heat at about 2-3 on my stove.
  
• Whisk in butter one piece at a time, you may lift pan occasionally to cool sauce.
• If adding lemon juice, do so after the pan is removed from heat. Also add salt, to taste.
  

* The egg yolks will not be fully cooked in this recipe, just so you know.

I hope you all have a lovely holidays!
viga

The Sexiest Cake Ever

Yesterday was my birthday, and The Mixmaster threw me a martini and tapas party. She did most of the cooking, making deviled eggs, feta-stuffed cherry tomatoes, and baguette pieces topped with melted brie and fig. We had home made hummus and roasted red pepper and eggplant dips, and I spiced my own olives. Family and friends brought fresh figs, cupcakes, and a variety of cheeses. It was downright decadent.
The piece de resistance of the entire evening was a "Persian Love Cake;" a gorgeous, lemon and cardamom-spiced chiffon cake with rosewater whipped cream on it that was showered with sugared rose petals and pistachios. Basically orientalism on a plate, and hopefully something that will kick start my interest in the new dissertation chapter I'm writing.
I'd made the cake the day before, and after cooling it, put it on plates and wrapped it with plastic and left it at room temperature. You can find the recipe for the cake here. I'd made a few adjustments to the Epi recipe. I increased the batter by 50%, to make a 3 layer cake. On the website, other patrons had said that the recipe made a small cake, and I had to make sure all my guests were fed. I also powdered the cardamom in my mortar and pestle, because I didn't like the idea of people biting into whole cardamom seeds. And I used slightly less rosewater, so the taste wasn't overpowering (as few of my guests don't like rosewater). You should note that even with the third layer there was too much whipped cream left over, so I'd say that whipping 2 1/4 cups double cream would be fine.
One of my sisters said that the cake "looked like a cloud," and the sugared rose petals were divine. Now that I know how to do it, I might sugar other flowers. Oh, and for those of you who are looking for organic roses for this recipe, they can be found in Toronto at Wholefoods (just don't expect the rest of the bunch to last longer than a day...). I only ended up needing one rose for the recipe.
Would I make my own birthday cake every year? Well what with all the cleaning, cooking, and then spending an hour turning into my diva self, maybe next year Betty Crocker is in order? Kidding, kidding!

Mozzarella di Bufala

After a long sunday of walking around the Colesseo and checking out churches, The Mixmaster and I found ourselves nearing dinnertime with no place to eat. While perched on a ledge at the Colesseo, surrounded by tourists, I peered into one of our guidebooks and found the perfect place. A pizzeria in Testaccio, the same neighbourhood where we partied with hundreds of queer Italians at Gorgeous I Am the night before. We dragged our tired legs and our growling bellies onto the metro system, and made our way to Pizza Remo (44 Piazza Santa Maria Liberatrice).
...Only to find it closed, as many restaurants were, on this, the holy day. By now we were very hungry and my hypoglycemic self was getting a little concerned. Luckily, we found a mercato just around the corner, and decided to shop for a little picnic dinner. We were blown away by the affordable prices, particularly of the cheeses and the wines. The Mixmaster was shocked that chunks of parmigiana half the length of her arm were 1/4 of what they would cost in Toronto. We picked up two bottles of wine, one for about 3 euros, a frizzante (sparkling wine) called Primo Amore by Zonin, some salami and panna (bread) to last a few days, and then, I saw it: mozzarella di bufala. I couldn't wait to get it back to the hotel to try it.
The Campania region of Italy is famous for mozzarella di bufala, or fresh, buffalo mozzarella. These are several theories about the introduction of the water buffalo to the region, and many believe that Arab traders brought them to Italy from the Middle East. Our mozzarella di bufala came refrigerated in a bag with clear-ish fluid. It had a lightly salty taste, and was creamy, and very easy to cut. You could scoop it with a spoon even, and yes, it seemed to be perishable. It was very white, and it melted on the tongue; you barely had to chew it.
We got back to the hotel and made sandwiches of the salty, sliced salami and the mozzarella and we cut some apples. Despite her name, after a glass or two of Primo Amore, The Mixmaster got a little tipsy. Hey, it's just another night in Italy: watching news in a language we didn't understand, resting our tired feet, eating the best salami and mozzarella sandwiches known to humans, and getting drunk on frizzante.

Croissants and Alphonsoes does Italy

Well, in two short days, The Mixmaster and I will be leaving for bella Italia! I have about a million things to do before my trip, including figuring out what a "Farfalle con pomodorino fresco, rucola e mozzarella" is, because I'll be eating it, if all goes according to plan, along with two other courses, with bottled water and wine at a "menu fissi" (fixed menu), in Florence. A few things I've learned about Italian dining, and will be careful of in my 9 days there are:

• Espresso bars charge about triple if you sit down. If you're not tired, and just need a quick caffeine fix, getting your espresso at the bar is a better option. Oh, and tipping is a must (where isn't it?).
• Italian restos often tack on hidden charges, often even charging for tap water, and bread baskets. Being smart about the bill and asking if what the cost of everything is is a good idea.
• Always be certain to clarify what size of an item you want. If you want a small slice of pizza, ask for a "piccolo," or you may pay more than you want.

Some things I'm dying to experience are the Trevi fountain in Rome, seeing David's naughty bits, eating a "bagna" boiled beef sandwich in Mercato Centrale in Florence, and going to Naples, the birthplace of the margherita pizza (a pizza with the colours of the Italian flag, for you nationalists out there...). And also sitting in cafes, writing postcards. Maybe going to St Peter's Square, and thumbing my nose at the Pope.
My goal is to record as much of my culinary experiences as I can, and report back. And hopefully, I'll have more to say than "Era squisito!" (That was delicious!).
Hope all of you out there have a lovely week and a half.

Nimbu Pani

The heat wave (or what passed for one) here in Toronto last week, combined with monsoon rains, got the Mixmaster and I thinking of cool, tasty summer drinks that were easy on the budget. This is a recipe that we've tested several times. "Nimbu Pani" translates to lime water in English, as in India the drink is usually made with small yellow limes. You can substitute either fruit, lemon or lime, to make the drink. It is usually made and drunk in the afternoon. It might seem a bit odd to add salt to a sweet drink, but the combination of dissolved sugar and salt in water helps to re-balance one's electrolytes, especially in a country where temperatures sometimes reach 40 degrees C. While we're heading for temps in the low twenties dehydration might not be an issue, but the combination of salty and sweet can be quite nice. There are three options for the fluid of the "pani," depending if you want fizz or not; be sure to try all three.

Recipe (for one drink):

1 lemon (4 T juice)
3 t white sugar
smigden of salt (optional)
250ml water/half water, half club soda/club soda
a few grinds of black pepper (optional)
mint leaves or a slice of lemon for garnish

Roll lemon against a cutting board, and cut it in half; juice and remove seeds. Take 4 Tablespoons of the juice and mix it with the white sugar until dissolved. Add the fluid. Add the smidgen of salt and mix again. Add the black pepper and give a quick stir. Garnish with mint leaves or a slice of lemon.