WorldWideWaterCooler

I know it’s a travesty for someone who considers herself not only a gourmand, but also passionate about eating local to have not yet managed to dine at Vancouver’s Raincity Grill. But until Saturday that was the case.

I’m pleased to say I’ve finally checked that particular dining milestone off my list, and it lived up to all my expectations!

Without really glancing at the rest of the menu, Neil and I went straight for the current 100-mile tasting menu – Winter Cellar. The fact that three of the wine pairings were from one of our all-time favourite local wineries, Venturi-Schulze, and that the third course was Sloping Hills Pork absolutely sealed the deal.

I was a bit apprehensive about how much I’d really enjoy dinner, since I’m honestly a bit tired of the endless soups and stews we’ve been eating for what seems like an eternity, so I was delighted to have a meal in which Peter Robertson & team turned the same tired ingredients we’ve been cooking with all winter into some exciting new dishes.

First Course: Baked Helmers Potato Consome: creme frache, chive, seig linda potato gnocchi. Wine: Venturi-Schulze Bianco di Collina

Second Course: Seared Baynes Sound Scallop: fricassee of north arm farms vegetables, vegetable paper, jus gras. Wine: Venturi-Schulze Schonburger

Third Course: Crisp Sloping Hills Pork: pemberton valley root vegetable pave, north arm farm beetroot, jus gras. Wine: Garry Oaks Pinot Gris

Fourth Course: Grilled Pemberton Meadows Flank Steak: yukon gold potato puree, mushroom ragout, braised onion, beef jus. Wine: Garry Oaks Zeta

Fifth Course: Apple Tart Tartin: roast apple ice cream, aggasiz honey caramel. Wine: Venturi-Schulze Brandenburg No.3

Dinner was delicious. The wine pairings, while not particularly remarkable or adventurous, were spot on. And the service, which is my make-it or break-it benchmark for all things fine-dining was outstanding.

We also happened to be dining during Earth Hour, where the restaurant turned off all their lights (save for one in the kitchen) and the dining room, restrooms and pass-through were all lit by candlelight alone. It was a delightful twist on the evening, and nice to see the restaurant participating (even though the rest of the Denman/Davie intersection seemed as lit-up as usual).

All in all, it was a fantastic evening.

When I think about my experiences dining in Vancouver, I always end by asking myself “Would I rather return here, or try something new?” When it comes to Raincity, I’ll definitely be back.

Along with adjusting to the schedule and commute of my new job, I’ve been living the single life. Neil’s been gone for a week, and isn’t heading home for another few days. This has made it really easy to slip into some old, inefficient habits, especially in the kitchen. When I’m home alone, it’s almost all I can do to get up early enough to walk the dog and get myself put together to get on the bus and head to work, then get home, walk the dog again, get a few chores done, get things ready for the next day, and crash into bed. Then get up the next day and do it all over again.

Feeding myself well doesn’t end up very high on the priority list, and when I do need to eat I find I’m reaching for the old, easy, expensive standbys: Pizza. Take out. Fast Food. Toast. Okay, toast isn’t that expensive. But toast alone isn’t all that healthy either.

Before the great budget challenge of 2009, I wouldn’t have blinked about spending what I have this past week on food. But now, seeing the money I’ve spent on convenience and knowing the bounty I could’ve bought with the same amount of cash (or just the amount of cash I could’ve spent on other things) and not much more effort, it’s kindof disheartening.

It’s another reminder that this whole budget exercise is as much about state of mind as state of wallet.

I’m reminded of a quote from Alice Waters on a recent episode of the Splendid Table Podcast (on not wanting to waste the local produce she’s worked so hard to source & obtain): “We used to base most of our food decisions on ‘what do I want,’ now we start thinking about meals with ‘what do I have?’”

I’ve been operating in “what do I want” mode for the past week, basing my food decisions on fast and easy, rather than affordable and healthy.

Which is dumb. Because if I take three minutes to look through the fridge, freezer and pantry, I have: bread, wraps, eggs, rice, pasta, chili, soup, beans, frozen fruit, frozen veggies, etc. etc. etc.

I have a bounty of food available, if I’d take the time to look for a couple minutes and do a minimal amount of thinking and prep. And I’d probably feel a world better by feeding my body real food as opposed to fast food. Not to mention having some extra funds for things I really want, instead of blowing it on short-term instant but fleeting gratification.

If you made your next meal with what you have already instead of what you want, what would it be? And what are you waiting for?

When our neighbours suggested we join them for a unique dining experience on a random Friday evening, we knew we were game. All we had to go on were a location, a price, and a sense of adventure. And it couldn’t have been more fun or delicious if we tried.

12B bills itself as a “unique restaurant concept” – I can’t think of a more perfect way to describe it. Diane at Global Peasant and Anne at Food & Tell do a great job of describing the experience and the atmosphere. I couldn’t agree more with their assessments.

The fact that two of our party were done in by the Pink Drinks concocted by our intrepid organizer Adam, or that we erupted into regular battle cries of “BACON SEX!” (neither of which phased our host one bit) was a refreshing change from the somewhat stuffy atmosphere at most places in the city one obtains food this good.

It’s an evening that promises to leave you with tantalized tastebuds, a satisfied belly and enough inside jokes to last you a long, long while.

But enough of the shenanigans, what on earth did we eat?

French onion soup
homemade veal stock, caramelized onions, 4 cheese blend

Deconstructed Nicoise Salad
crab & goat cheese puck with quail eggs, cherry tomatoes, new potatoes, green beans, nicoise olives, garlic & shallot vinaigrette

Sole wrapped Proscuitto
asparagus cream sauce, cucumber & cauliflower in mornay sauce, local spot prawn

Star Anise rubbed Duck Breast
orange duck jus, wild rice red pepper pilaf, carrot celery julienne

BBQ Beef Flank Steak
red wine balsamic demi, mashed potato, artichoke bottoms, seared mushrooms

Chai Ice Cream, Homemade Shortbread, Poached Pink Lady Apple
chef’s mom’s cookie recipe, pomeau de normandy & port sauce

More pictures of the food and the space on flickr.
———————–
12B – a unique dining experience
12breservations {at} gmail {dot} com
778.389.7295

Love it or loathe it, it’s Dine Out Vancouver time!

I fall somewhere in the middle of the love/loathe continuum. I somewhat loathe the slide service takes in some of my favourite places while they struggle to deal with the glut of bargain-seekers. But I do like it for trying out new restaurants, especially those that fully embrace Dine Out, and have orchestrated their service and offerings around making Dine Out a good experience.

An ideal candidate for that, for us, was Watermark at Kits Beach. I’ve heard far too many negative reviews to want to spend time and money there on their regular menu (fearing one of Colene’s Food Mulligan experiences). But when we were invited to join some friends there for Dine Out, I figured the $28 menu is a price I’m willing to pay to come to my own conclusions about the place.

And overall, it was pretty good.

The service was friendly and attentive. When we ordered our drinks (Hendrick’s Gin & Tonic with cucumber – my latest go-to cocktail) our server was honest in that he wasn’t sure he could get us the cucumber. We were okay with that, and it made it all the more impressive that when our drinks arrived, they did so complete with the requested garnish.

They also gave us the option of ordering from the regular menu if the Dine Out offerings weren’t our cup of tea, and didn’t balk when 3 of us ordered Dine Out, and one had a regular menu dish. I’ve found a lot of restaurants force Dine Out as an “all or nothing” option for the entire table.

Finally (literally), they didn’t boot us out after 90 minutes, as so many places attempt to do for the discount crowd. We lingered into the evening and still had to ask for our bill when we were ready to go (it wasn’t unceremoniously dumped on our table, glaring at us to just pay and leave already, geez).

And while all of that made the experience a nice one, and the food was fine, it was just that – fine.

It wasn’t outstanding, impressive, or memorable in any way. If not for the obvious lack of ditsy servers delivering less “service” than “facefull of cleavage” we could’ve been in any Earlstone’s Club in the city. It was “just nice.” And there are too many great restaurants in the city for me to spend my time and money on “just nice”.

I can say that if you’ve got people in from out of town, for whom the beach is an amazing sight, they appreciate a nice meal (but aren’t ultra-picky food critics) and it happens to be a sunny day where English Bay and the North Shore Mountains are all shiny and sparkly, then a seat by the window at Watermark would be a nice treat, and you probably (hopefully) won’t feel ripped off by what you pay for your meal, even though their is a bit of a “view tax.”

But if you’re looking for more than “just nice,” you might want to stop by Capers to grab some picnic fixins, park yourself on the beach in front of the restaurant, and give Watermark a miss.

Vegetarians, now is the time to look away. In fact, leave. Just go. Come back tomorrow, or perhaps the day after.

Well, you can’t say I didn’t warn you.

As we’ve been getting more and more comfortable in the kitchen, and more apt at flexing our culinary muscles, Neil and I have been looking for greater food and recipe challenges to undertake. One thing we don’t get to do very often are recipes that make enough food to feed small armies. They’re expensive, and require either a small army to feed, or being okay with wasting a HUGE amount of food (we are in possession of neither a small army nor any comfort with tossing out food).

But, by hosting Christmas Dinner for both our families, we had a great excuse to cook a giant meal, with the added bonus of feeding it to people very unlikely to sue if we gave them all food poisoning (we didn’t).

So we embarked upon that unholy abomination against barnyard fowl everywhere, scourge of the vegetarian and patron saint of the Church of John Madden: The Mighty Turducken!

(by the by, if you’d like to view the entire “making-of” photoset, it’s here)

After searching far and wide for a recipe that looked like it would be achievable and tasty, we finally settled on this one from The Black Table.

This particular recipe follows the standard Turkey-Duck-Chicken recipe, and uses three different stuffings between the layers, and a healthy dose of traditional Cajun seasoning.

It was certainly expensive (our butcher will sell them pre-made for $175 – we didn’t come in much below that, thanks mostly to using organic, free-range poultry and much bigger birds than they claim to), and somewhat time-consuming (the work has to be spread over two days – eating the same day would be nearly impossible).

But, for anyone who’s comfortable in the kitchen, it wasn’t actually all that difficult.

The hardest part was boning the birds.

Luckily for us, my inlaws took a poultry boning workshop last year, and handily took care of removing the bones from the chicken, duck and turkey for us. Bonus: since the duck and chicken are on the inside, there isn’t a whole lot of worry about wrecking the skin. They were quite quick. The turkey was a bit more of a delicate job, and we left the drumsticks on so it still looked like a turkey, instead of a dimply loaf.

The other task for day 1 was making the stuffings. If you’ve never made a stuffing (aside from Stovetop, which was actually the 3rd stuffing used for this recipe) they’re awfully simple. Sautee aromatics (celery, onions) and any other vegetables or meats you may be using until cooked through and tender. Mix with breadcrumbs, add dried fruits and/or nuts if using. Pour on broth, stir together, bake. It’s that easy. As indicated by the recipe, we did a Sausage & Oyster stuffing, a Cornbread Pecan stuffing, and Stovetop.

Again, we were less worried about making the stuffings than we were about putting the whole thing together. We needen’t have been.

Because the birds handily have no more bones, the assembly is quite a bit different than you might think. The typical description is “a turkey stuffed with a duck stuffed with a chicken” – but while the birds are indeed inside each other, there is no “stuffing” motion at all. It’s more of a big, meaty jellyroll.

This is also the part where a bunch of other hands come in very… well… handy.

Coming at it from either side, you pull up the sides of the turkey until the meat is once again joined at the back. It all went really easily, we didn’t have to force it together at all, but we did need to hold it very securely (hence using many hands) while it was skewered down the back, then trussed up to hold it all together while it roasted.

And roast it did, for five long hours. We kept it covered for the first couple hours, then took the foil off to crisp up the skin.

One thing we certainly weren’t expecting was the amount of drippings this creation put out! Six full cups of juices came out of the turducken over the course of cooking it. We had to siphon most of those off into a separate vessel at every basting, otherwise the roasting pan would’ve overflowed.

And it made The. Best. Gravy. I have ever had. Ever. Period. The End. I could just stop now. And I’m drooling. Literally.

The gravy alone is enough reason for me to make turducken again.

Also, the fact that it turned out to be really, really tasty. Even for leftovers. Which is good, because for the 14 of us for dinner, we managed to eat not quite half.

When you serve turducken, you slide a cross-section, like a big ol’ loaf (which it really is), so you can “taste the rainbow” with a portion of each of the meats and the stuffings.

Most people only made it through half a slice.

Knowing what I know now, this is something I’ll absolutely attempt again. I would tweak a couple of the stuffing recipes (use half of the smoked oysters, and chop them rather than leave them whole, also dice the mushrooms for the cornbread stuffing, and nix the stovetop all together for a homemade basic bread stuffing).

I’ll also probably try it in smaller format. Perhaps a turkey breast and a duck breast and a couple chicken thighs with stuffings in-between. And wrap it all in bacon…. Ohhhh and here comes the drool again…

At The Kitchn, they’re asking about cooking resolutions for the new year.

Since cooking seems to be what we do most of these days (in fact, 5/6 of our Christmas gifts from other people were cooking-related), I thought I’d chime in with a few of my own kitchen-based resolutions (more like goals, these) for 2009:

-Make homemade mustard, at least once.
-Make pasta from scratch.
-Find a fool-proof recipe for the perfect soft-boiled egg (I once was so frustrated that I hurled my 3rd round of undercooked eggs off our balcony, and haven’t attempted them since).
-Find a bean recipe I love.
-Make a meat-free recipe at least once a month (though for me, using meat stock doesn’t count as meat!)

One other thing I’ve already made great headway on (though are still far from 100% converted) is eating more ethically raised meat and cutting out factory-farmed meats entirely.

We’ve done the easier part by only buying non-factory-farmed meat at home, but eating out is still a challenge. I saw a great approach to this on Slashfood, where Curt Ellis is dropping cards at restaurants that serve factory meat (after he finishes his vegetarian option there) to let them know that he, as a patron, cares where his meat comes from.

I think it’d be great if he made a second card for restaurants where he is able to get non-factory meats, to say thanks, and let them know that it made a difference.

While we were busy making all those cookies, I put out a tray of savory snacks to try to counter the sugar rush. Most of these were courtesy of President’s Choice, as they sent out a basket of some of their newest products just in time for the holidays.

And I’ve gotta say, most of the items were really good (I could really take or leave the “assortment of crackers for cheese”). The Fig and Olive Tapenade was a hit, as were the caramels with dark chocolate and sea salt.

Neil really likes the Lingonberry sauce (great on plain yogurt, and I’m super impressed that the first ingredient is actually Lingonberries, there aren’t more than 5 ingredients on the lablel, and I can pronounce all of them. The “Memories of Fuji 3-Mushroom Sauce” is awesome on pasta, with a little ricotta cheese melted in.

In fact, I’ve had a ton of positive experience with the entire PC Line of products lately. I was at a holiday party the other weekend, and the host had prepared the PC Swedish Meatballs with the “Memories of Damascus Tangy Pomegranate Sauce” and they were entirely addictive.

The other month I used the PC Organics cake mixes to make Neil’s birthday cupcakes, and they were so moist and fluffy, nobody believed it was cake out of a box.

Problem is, obtaining PC products (at least in my corner of the country) requires a trip to one of those wretched Real Canadian Superstores. That place is positively hell on earth for me.

A gigantic warehouse, decorated in migraine-inducing yellow, full of people who look like they would rather be doing anything but grocery shopping. Dragging around 17 ill-behaved children in the SUV-sized cart, piling it sky-high. Not with PC products or the local produce that the commercials advertise, but with the four cases of pizza pops, 12 bags of Doritos and flats of soda that are all on sale.

And speaking of that local produce, I was so impressed with the commercials and new products that I went to a Superstore recently, and was instantly confronted with the horror scenes of yesteryear I remembered. Stacks of sketchy looking fruits and vegetables, most of them from who-knows-where, next to other bins that are totally empty and picked over, in a dirty area of the store with produce detrius all over the floors and the unpleasant odour of rotten cabbage hovering over it all.

There was very little produce I’d considering purchasing there, and I didn’t see a single piece of local or organic meat (which is what we try to buy the majority of the time).

It’s depressing. And annoying. And I’ll be damned if I’m going to go out of my way, and subject myself to all that for a jar of tapenade and a box of cake mix. No thank you.

But it would be so, so awesome if Loblaws branched out into the mid-upscale market. Similarly to how the Overwaitea chain has everything from Price Smart up to Urban Fare – Loblaws is just missing the PC Market and Bistro, where I can pick up some of the PC Products, and my healthy looking local produce, and maybe a good looking salad or sandwich from the deli (instead of some grey-looking mystery meat masquerading as roast beef that went bad in 3 days).

And yes, Loblaws people, I’d be willing to pay more for products if I’m getting a better experience with them. Take a page from Harley Davidson’s marketing plan: the experience drives everything.

But until then, I’ve got Urban Fare, Marketplace IGA and Whole Foods all much closer to where I live, work and play, all with their own specialty products. Are they as good? Maybe not always, but that’s such a small part of the equation, and a big thing Loblaws is missing.

Title = fun quote from an episode of Jamie’s School Dinners, where Jamie Oliver was trying to educate a woman on the benefits of feeding her family salad.

Speaking of Salad…

In an effort to do a little pre-emptive healthy eating before the base hedonism of the Christmas Food Fest, I’ve been trying to eat a salad for lunch every day.

Unfortunately I’m getting a bit bored of my standard combinations of greens + veggies + proteins + carbs + dressing.

So, gentle readers, I’m asking you to pony up your salad suggestions. All I ask is that the combinations go thusly:

-Large portion of greens & veggies
-Small portion of protein
-Small portion of carbs
-preference for homemade dressing (though really, if you suggest a style, there’s probably a recipe for making it out there somewhere that I can find).

And because everyone can use a new salad combo, here are the two I’ve been having the most often so far:

Tuna Salad
1/2 can of Tuna (packed in water, drained)
5 tiny dill pickles, diced
mixed with 1 tbsp mayo
served over2c. Baby Greens
Side of what thins crackers

Spinach Salad
1/2 oz Blue Cheese, crumbled
5 or 6 slices red onion
2c baby spinach greens
tossed withdijon vinaigrette
(2 parts olive oil to 1 part red wine vinegar, dollop of dijon mustard & smaller dollop of honey – whisk together & season with salt & pepper)
Side of cornbread

What about you? What greeny delights get your mojo going?

Wow. Who knew an emulsion was so enticing!

Anyhow, it all started after reading a bunch of Michael Pollan books. I started reading food labels, and one of those was eventually mayonnaise. And there are some frightening unpronounceables on those labels.

This was also around the time Neil and I were realizing how easy it is to make most condiments, and how much better and fresher they taste when homemade.

So we dove into the world of Mayo. And it is so, SO easy.

I happen to use an adaptation of the recipe in this book – I use sunflower oil, since I prefer the taste of that over olive oil for most of my mayo uses – though any basic recipe will probably do. I also use rice wine vinegar, instead of white wine. Again, go with what you enjoy.

The one thing before getting started, is just trust yourself. If you think it needs more or less oil, salt, pepper, mustard, vinegar, lemon juice, go ahead and throw it in. The best part of making your own mayo is that you can really tweak it so it’s your own saucy bowl of perfection.

First things first: you’ll need a non-reactive bowl, an egg, oil, mustard, vinegar, salt, pepper and lemon juice. You’ll also need either an electric mixer, or if you prefer to kick-it old-school, a wire whisk and wrist of steel. Get all your ingredients (or at least the egg) to room temperature.

Separate the the egg, and drop the yolk into your bowl with about a tsp of mustard, vinegar, salt and pepper. You can get fancy and use white pepper if you don’t want black flecks sullying the golden yellow of your mayo, but I don’t care that much.

Whisk or beat those together until well blended. Then comes the tricky part. You want to slowly drizzle in about 1/2c. of oil in a very thin stream and watch the sauce emulsify. You’ll note that my pictures of the really tricky part don’t exist. I ran out of hands. Just trust me.

If it starts to split (the egg won’t absorb any more oil, and it looks chunky and curdled), stop pouring the oil and whisk like the wind! I’ve never had a problem rescuing split mayo with just extra whisking, but YMMV. Books suggest starting with another yolk and mustard, and whisking in the split mixture until it’s all smooth again.

Eventually, you’ll end up with something that looks like mayo. Huzzah! You’ve made it most of the way! But it still needs a little something-something. Add your lemon juice, adjust the salt and pepper, and give it one last gentle mix. It’s too late here to adjust the mustard, but make a mental note for next time.

Once you’re satisfied with the flavour, that’s it! You’ve just made your own mayo in about 6 minutes. Give yourself a pat on the back, you deserve it!

Officially homemade mayo lasts about 3-5 days in the fridge, but we’ve kept ours up to two weeks without any ill effects. Of course, we at chez watercooler take no responsibility for any condiment related disaster or illness that may befall you after making your own mayo. And if you visit, rest assured that we only test our own intestinal fortitude with aged mayo. We’ll only serve guests fresh stuff.

Now, go make yourself a sandwich!

In my last post there was a brief discussion in the comments about the evolution of charging (or not) for shopping bags – plastic and reuseable.

bobvis mentioned

It occurs to me now that if you really want people to remember to bring their own bags, you should actually *charge* them $0.03 for forgetting to bring their own bags. I think that would psychologically be a better incentive to remember to bring your bag than either a discount.

Of course, a company probably would think twice before implementing this policy because it could tick off consumers. However, it might actually serve as a better motivator.

Which reminded me of the Real Canadian Superstore chain.

Ever since I can remember shopping there (which goes back to 1994 or so), they’ve been charging $0.10 per bag if you want a plastic one from their store to haul your groceries home in.

Growing up in a small town where there was only one small supermarket which charged the high prices you’d expect in that situation, we made semi-monthly pilgrimages to the Superstore 35 minutes away to stock up on groceries for the family.

And even then, more than a decade before “green” was trendy, Superstore was encouraging the purchase of “Green Boxes” – crate-like baskets that fit into their specially-fitted shopping carts, so you could fill them while you were shopping, then unpack and repack them to put into your car.

I remember my mom LOVED them, because they were really easy to handle, and it meant there weren’t bags rolling around in the trunk, squashing groceries on our way home.

I don’t think anyone in my family shops at Superstore anymore. There isn’t one close to any of us, and we aren’t buying things in the quantities Superstore usually packages them in. But to this day, I still have a couple of those green boxes in my storage room, holding dog supplies and recyclables.

The more I think about the Superstore days though, the more I remember them having quite a few green products in their President’s Choice line. I didn’t see special advertising for them, they were just on the shelf next to the regular products. And I never really thought about why.

I have noticed a few commercials and videos going around though, about a new campaign/initiative that the Loblaw’s chain (parent company of Superstore & Extra Foods Price Smart Foods oops! my bad.) is running, trying to bring local produce to their stores:

Sure, now it seems like they’re just doing it to be trendy – but Superstore’s been quietly leading a green charge for a helluva long time (fun fact: they launched the “Green Line” of President’s Choice products in 1989 – yes, eighty-nine).

But is it really (as their commercials claim) worth switching supermarkets for? It’s hard for me to say.

It’s entirely inconvenient for me to get to a Superstore (or any other store in the Loblaw’s chain). I am a creature of habit and convenience, and unless there is a really REALLY compelling reason to go elsewhere (usually a huge price advantage, or to get products my closest store doesn’t carry), I shop at the supermarket closest to home – supplemented by trips to the local farmer’s markets.

But their efforts do make me consider what my local stores are doing. I actually even feel a bit guilty for not rewarding Loblaw’s (by shopping at their stores) for being so green so early. And while I’m still not compelled to actually trek over to their stores, I am curious about what they’re doing and do think about them. Which I suppose is a start.

How about those of you who have a few options for nearby supermarkets? What influences your decision to shop where you do? To those close to a Superstore: do you shop there? Why or why not?

Not that my cupboards are bare, but Zoot posted something awfully fun yesterday that made me think a bit more about what’s in them (and read the comments, too!). I was going to comment, but I’d run on far too long.

She writes:

So, I’m curious how your kitchen is different from mine. Do you own a rice steamer? A breadmaker? How much room do your spices take up? Is your fridge constantly full? Do you use a separate freezer? (Now that is something I could totally use, by the way. To store all of my Stoffer’s frozen entreess.) Do your wine glasses get used? What about your coffee maker? We’ve gone through three in the last few years we use ours so much. What is the appliance you use the most (Crockpot), what is the appliance you use the least (Hand-held mixer). Do you have a food processor? What do you use it for because I’ve never owned one.

We’re big kitchen people. Not that we have a big kitchen, but we love cooking and spend a lot of time in ours. You’ve probably only seen my kitchen looking pristine if you’ve come over or seen pictures, but that’s because I’ve been frantically cleaning it before you showed up.

In reality, it’s usually a mess, because we’ve just made something. And probably from scratch.

It’s not a foodie superiority thing – we certainly wouldn’t do it if we didn’t enjoy it – we both just find it fun, breaking foods down into their most basic elements and figuring out how they really work. We don’t churn butter or anything, but we do make our own mayo. I can’t remember the last time we purchased a store-bought salad dressing. We probably haven’t bought a canned, boxed or frozen meal in over 2 years, and only buy containers of soupstock once in a blue-moon, when our stores of homemade have run out and we’ve been too busy to make more.

We do buy a lot of mustard – but I’ve been itching to take on that particular condiment as well and add it to our arsenal of homemade things.

I’m definitely enjoying this while it lasts – because I’m assuming that it will come to a rapid end once we no longer have just the two of our schedules to manage and the two of us to feed.

To answer Zoot’s questions:

No, we don’t have a rice steamer – I’ve tried, and can only successfully make it in a pot. No breadmaker either, though we do make a lot of it, either with the help of the KitchenAid or just by hand. We have a vast selection of spices: about half of one cupboard shelf, 18 magnetic pots on the wall, another rack of 12 jars in another cupboard and 6 pots of fresh herbs on the windowsill. Most of them get used at least once every 6 months.

Generally our fridge is about half-full of different condiments. When we’re home, it’s nearly bursting with fresh ingredients and leftovers. We do have a very small fridge though. And we would LOVE a separate freezer. We had a line on a free used one, but that fell through. It’s currently a big item on our wish list for storing stocks, fruit & berries, and meat. We’re itching to buy a side of beef or a whole hog!

Our wine glasses get used a whole lot (we prefer thinking we are living a French lifestyle to thinking we are alcoholics) – we have four we keep in the regular cupboard for everyday use and a box of 12 we have in our storage room for parties. The coffee maker also gets very regular workouts – used at least once every day, sometimes twice on weekends.

The appliance we use the most is probably the toaster, followed by the KitchenAid – though that’s not really saying much. Unless it’s a really big job, we just use hand tools: sharp knife, wooden spoon, wire whisk. And now that I think about it, there was a time we were using the blender 4 or 5 mornings a week to make fruit smoothies. Note to self: do more of that! The one we use least is a tie between the food processor and the waffle-iron. Both great and super-handy when you need them, but we don’t need them all that often. When I do use the food processor it’s usually for pastry dough, or a big batch of slaw, pesto or hummus.

I’ve also included a couple photos of our kitchen – visit the originals on flickr, which I’ve tagged for your kitchen-snooping pleasure.

And leave a comment or a link to your own post and share how you use your kitchen. What are your answers to Zoot’s questions? How many kinds of mustard do you have? How often do you cook? What’s on your list of “must-try” recipes?

From the Very Good Taste blog:

1) Copy this list into your blog or journal, including these instructions.
2) *Asterisk and Italicize any items you’d be interested in trying but have not yet.*
2) Bold all the items you’ve eaten.
3) Cross out any items that you would never consider eating.

The VGT Omnivore’s Hundred:

1. Venison
2. *Nettle tea*
3. Huevos rancheros
4. *Steak tartare*
5. Crocodile
6. Black pudding
7. Cheese fondue
8. Carp
9. Borscht
10. Baba ghanoush
11. Calamari
12. Pho
13. PB&J sandwich
14. Aloo gobi
15. Hot dog from a street cart
16. *Epoisses*
17. Black truffle
18. Fruit wine made from something other than grapes
19. Steamed pork buns
20. Pistachio ice cream
21. Heirloom tomatoes
22. Fresh wild berries
23. Foie gras
24. Rice and beans
25. Brawn, or head cheese
26. *Raw Scotch Bonnet pepper*
27. Dulce de leche
28. Oysters
29. Baklava
30. *Bagna cauda*
31. Wasabi peas
32. Clam chowder in a sourdough bowl
33. Salted lassi
34. Sauerkraut
35. Root beer float
36. Cognac with a fat cigar
37. *Clotted cream tea*
38. Vodka jelly/Jell-O
39. Gumbo
40. Oxtail
41. Curried goat
42. Whole insects
43. *Phaal*
44. Goat’s milk
45. Malt whisky from a bottle worth £60/$120 or more
46. *Fugu*
47. Chicken tikka masala
48. Eel
49. Krispy Kreme original glazed doughnut
50. Sea urchin
51. Prickly pear
52. *Umeboshi*
53. Abalone
54. Paneer
55. McDonald’s Big Mac Meal
56. Spaetzle
57. Dirty gin martini
58. Beer above 8% ABV
59. Poutine
60. Carob chips
61. S’mores
62. Sweetbreads
63. Kaolin
64. *Currywurst*
65. Durian
66. *Frogs’ legs*
67. Beignets, churros, elephant ears or funnel cake
68. Haggis
69. Fried plantain
70. *Chitterlings, or andouillette*
71. Gazpacho
72. Caviar and blini
73. *Louche absinthe*
74. *Gjetost, or brunost*
75. Roadkill
76. *Baijiu*
77. Hostess Fruit Pie
78. Snail
79. *Lapsang souchong*
80. Bellini
81. Tom yum
82. Eggs Benedict
83. Pocky
84. *Tasting menu at a three-Michelin-star restaurant.*
85. Kobe beef
86. Hare
87. Goulash
88. Flowers
89. Horse
90. *Criollo chocolate*
91. Spam
92. *Soft shell crab*
93. Rose harissa
94. Catfish
95. Mole poblano
96. Bagel and lox
97. Lobster Thermidor
98. Polenta
99. *Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee*
100. *Snake*

I’m a bit disappointed in myself admitting that I’d never eat bugs, or durian, or roadkill (I’m that person who thinks everyone should try everything at least once) – but… ew. I hate bugs, I’ve smelled durian, and I’ve changed enough tires to be pretty wary of roadkill.

Anything you’d just never, ever try?

Netchick’s living vicariously, asking everyone what they got for Christmas. And I’m happy to oblige!

Some new running gear: an iPod Nano, the Nike + iPod pedometer/workout tracker and some new kicks to put it in, since my current runners were looking mighty sad.

And a year’s subscription to Cook’s Illustrated Magazine.

These will either be highly complementary, or cause a great deal of cognitive dissonance in 2008.

It only took a few months to happen – I’ve got lunch fatigue. I’m officially bored with the lunch offerings around my office.

And yah, I could make lunch to take to work, but I’m sorely out of practice and creativity in that department.

It gets especially difficult when you consider the fact that I don’t really like sandwiches.

That’s right. Don’t like sandwiches. I don’t mind a basic PB&J, or a toasted clubhouse, or the holy grail: the day-after Christmas turkey/cranberry sauce/stuffing/mashed potatoes/gravy on bread concoction, but untoasted bread stuffed with… stuff… it just turns me off. I dunno why.

I’ve also tried bringing salads to work, but I find they’re not filling enough, and also a very cold lunch in my very cold office. Plus after 3 days of salads, I’m still bored with the local options and now also bored with salad.

But I think I’ve found a solution!

Surfing through the blogopshere, I found the new site Just Bento.

I love bento – tiny meals in a box – and Makiko has put together a collection of tasty recipes and handy tricks. Including a big ol’ DUH that I didn’t think of but really should have: most bentos start with rice, so pre-cook a bunch, freeze it, and then top a frozen rice-hunk with bento fixin’s.

In fact she talks about maintaining a stash of joubisai (prepared ingredients) to make prep and assembly easier. We already maintain a similar pantry stock for dinners, so why it never occurred to me to populate a similar collection for lunches I’m not sure.

The site is pretty new, so it only has two bento recipes up so far. I’m hoping more will come during the next week while I’m away, and I can start the bento process with earnest once I’m back home.

Do you have any favourite lunch fixin’s or bento resources? After 1 week away, 6 frazzled days at home, and another week on the road, I’m going to be in the mood for some serious home cooking.

You can’t imagine how unbelievably sad I am to be writing this entry.

Ending any relationship is hard, but this one meant more to me than most. It’s seen me through so much, been with me through good times and bad, and its warm, comforting embrace has been the one constant I’ve had to rely on when nothing else was going right.

My friends, I am off coffee.

I’ve been pretty ill for quite some time. Since late March I’ve been dealing with being completely irregular (varying widely from one end of that particular spectrum to the other), and random attacks of nausea. It’s gotten to bad that I’ve had to walk out on dinners (because just being in the presence of food is enough to trigger illness) and have bolted from a cab, upstairs to the bathroom just in time to hurl. I have spent more nights than I care to admit to myself curled up in the fetal position waiting for the sweet release of sleep – or death – or anything to make me stop feeling like my torso is being turned inside-out.

Now I’m at a point where I don’t like going out much, because I have no idea how I’ll feel or what might happen (it tends to come out of “nowhere”). I’ve lost 5lbs – but not in a good way. I’ve actually mostly abandoned any sort of serious exercise routine, because on a daily basis I’m never sure if I’ll be able to consume enough calories to make it through a workout without fainting. And of course, the lack of exercise means my energy levels have gone waaaaaay down, and I’m mostly tired all the time.

It was clearly time to do something about this, and I’m already familiar with the processes of dealing with GI distresses – so I started paying really close attention to everything I do and eat.

And one constant I’ve found is coffee.

I’ve not had any for a few days (or the couple cups I have had made me pretty sick) – and I’m already starting to feel better.

I almost wish I didn’t.

But for now, coffee is dead to me. Really rich foods (especially dense, dark chocolates) and wine are on notice.

Of course, if I actually have to move either one of those to the banned list, life may not be worth living anymore.

At the moment, though, things are slowly getting better – and Neil has switched from delivering java in the mornings to tea instead.