tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33502584738474383372024-03-21T01:51:18.766-07:00la femme fraîchefemme fraichehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11900939969288086288noreply@blogger.comBlogger17125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3350258473847438337.post-24305248463074801512010-07-12T15:08:00.000-07:002010-07-12T15:19:07.016-07:00Summerlicious Part Two: A Little Greek in Little GreeceSunday afternoon, after an unsuccessful attempt at open-house viewing on the Danforth (apparently all real estate agents are avid soccer fans), mama, TS and I settled in at <a href="http://www.ouzeri.com/">Ouzeri</a> for an early Greek dinner/lunch. Being both starving and deprived of an authentic Greek meal since we have been separated by a city from our Greek family friends, I was extra excited for this meal. We all were, actually, mama had been talking about her excitement for moussaka (and reminiscing fam-friend Paola's rendition of it) all week.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ066IAe1WQAtu8b7hZQsDQBMbIzSCJOBEU41dre2Ru9js4VPaOjwca4_ygMf86F-6cJ0yqcRbMlThpxOX4GM-GNoTyN2xgkie1OB1zFqCGKlhi9l2ZLhbOoo-wi7AsRfDGiBcNT9zr4QV/s1600/IMG_1547.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ066IAe1WQAtu8b7hZQsDQBMbIzSCJOBEU41dre2Ru9js4VPaOjwca4_ygMf86F-6cJ0yqcRbMlThpxOX4GM-GNoTyN2xgkie1OB1zFqCGKlhi9l2ZLhbOoo-wi7AsRfDGiBcNT9zr4QV/s400/IMG_1547.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">For starters, Mama got the classical <em><strong><span style="color: #0b5394;">Greek Salad</span></strong><span style="color: #0b5394;">: <strong>tomatoes, cucumbers, olives, lettuce, onion</strong></span></em>...all topped with quite a spectacular <em><span style="color: #0b5394;"><strong>feta cheese</strong>.</span></em> This was not your grocery feta--much softer and not as salty. My naivety has me convinced it's shipped here straight from the mother land (especially since the salt and bottled water are products of Greece, too) </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBSVwyi1I5Mem8LHU5UcV11Wlmm-bxuvd72dW-L5TAeUk8XAnn7bMtlWT4ruYKb0X1UUclp2pU6mr4qwtNQNuPMCWXIj9Wx5PECoImGnZnyAXf2C05dNN7gJ_PR-RaqvsymmSapCpE_gUN/s1600/IMG_1543.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBSVwyi1I5Mem8LHU5UcV11Wlmm-bxuvd72dW-L5TAeUk8XAnn7bMtlWT4ruYKb0X1UUclp2pU6mr4qwtNQNuPMCWXIj9Wx5PECoImGnZnyAXf2C05dNN7gJ_PR-RaqvsymmSapCpE_gUN/s320/IMG_1543.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheXEa2uMU3FRv06ghxLYVa1xIXb9IOBcQlZJC2nL1iyoBauM12fLwB9vpBa2YRPKwZnOx3kkDwEWGRDxhnI7ULowxIMISM-IAtE8ghyj2juSMCkSMO9irIcvZcfPJTWIKOKyoj7-FRiHkR/s1600/IMG_1540.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheXEa2uMU3FRv06ghxLYVa1xIXb9IOBcQlZJC2nL1iyoBauM12fLwB9vpBa2YRPKwZnOx3kkDwEWGRDxhnI7ULowxIMISM-IAtE8ghyj2juSMCkSMO9irIcvZcfPJTWIKOKyoj7-FRiHkR/s320/IMG_1540.JPG" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I meant to ask our server where it was supplied from, but my overwhelming hunger pangs were telling me to just shut up and eat. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
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</div>TS and I both opted for the <strong><em><span style="color: #0b5394;">Artichoke Lemonata</span></em></strong>. It almost felt as though we were eating a pasta dish. We both agreed that the artichokes had a noodle-y texture. The egg-lemon and dill sauce was fantastic..but only if you are a big fan of lemon and dill as both these flavours were equally intense in the dish.<br />
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We all went separate ways when it came to entree selection. Can you guess what Mama had? <br />
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If you picked <strong><em><span style="color: #0b5394;">Moussaka</span></em></strong>, you win the prize. It's almost like a Greek version of lasagna, or Sheppard's Pie (two dishes close to Mama's heart): <strong><em><span style="color: #0b5394;">layered spiced ground beef, eggplant, zucchini topped with béchamel sauce and mashed potatoes</span></em></strong>. She claimed to taste a spice she couldn't quite put her finger on, that she wasn't too crazy about. I couldn't taste it, but TS could. (She was happy, but said it didn't compare to Paula's version, which is slightly different, with sliced potatoes dispersed throughout the layers)<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhniad9hMr8dwx3Y2JH3CRG3l1AGAtMLrQaawE1lX-g8pITVnShlZKA47AODwJ2rEaeLFBWM3sVJkhOJ2qK3I_OobL8i_797D9TkwBfmy0XFFRUqs81iRwfcHvSzQk_qRE0ApILx8c_1D31/s1600/IMG_1551.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhniad9hMr8dwx3Y2JH3CRG3l1AGAtMLrQaawE1lX-g8pITVnShlZKA47AODwJ2rEaeLFBWM3sVJkhOJ2qK3I_OobL8i_797D9TkwBfmy0XFFRUqs81iRwfcHvSzQk_qRE0ApILx8c_1D31/s400/IMG_1551.JPG" width="400" /></a></div> TS took the vegetarian route with the <span style="color: #0b5394;"> <strong><em>Spanakopita: spinach, feta cheese, leeks baked in buttery filo pastry</em></strong></span></span>. Cooked veggies, salty cheese and crusty bread (essentially)...can you go wrong? Well, they definitely didn't. It was delicious.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKItIMpC3akuluclYAuqHsXbKkImib_Tu0RqOWjIhUUiM1lsCkdd1hjM67RG74hlkW6ZA_4ZKqT84LRdRi5BZcIVZ9g-cYf2N9gVEYi1TvFsD6twDEd1bO601msTDx2sMlgeIm6wOa2h80/s1600/IMG_1549.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKItIMpC3akuluclYAuqHsXbKkImib_Tu0RqOWjIhUUiM1lsCkdd1hjM67RG74hlkW6ZA_4ZKqT84LRdRi5BZcIVZ9g-cYf2N9gVEYi1TvFsD6twDEd1bO601msTDx2sMlgeIm6wOa2h80/s400/IMG_1549.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I tried the <strong><em><span style="color: #0b5394;">Lamb Rosemary Pie,</span></em></strong> which as a dish, is new to me, but ingredient-wise, they all rank in most-used-and-loved for me (except for the lamb...red meat is not a regular visitor to my palate). Everyone agreed my dish was their favorite--it had the most "pop" as Mama put it. It was a lamb shank pie, with <strong><em><span style="color: #0b5394;">feta cheese, rosemary and mushroom sauce, obviously wrapped in butter filo</span></em></strong>. My plate was bare crumb-less by the end. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">All the dishes came with a side of <strong><em><span style="color: #0b5394;">lemon potatoes</span></em></strong>, which were amazing (not too lemony, skin-on for that extra flavour), and <strong><em><span style="color: #0b5394;">pilaf</span></em></strong>. We found it odd that we got two starches with our meal and would have preferred a veggie selection (skip the rice though, and save the potatoes). </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNgcQrsr90jRQJ1a0Jzkdkk6UDEEmPz9IDaCv3u2yqgT2WvNp8iJFYVPOVj4E33A8OF8SyejP7Y01dQ10NSFwC7UkoP1IllizjxWU9iq-mXmlS4kCgb3yPD2f9Ik_xzoaHuogOj2OBvkiq/s1600/IMG_1562.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNgcQrsr90jRQJ1a0Jzkdkk6UDEEmPz9IDaCv3u2yqgT2WvNp8iJFYVPOVj4E33A8OF8SyejP7Y01dQ10NSFwC7UkoP1IllizjxWU9iq-mXmlS4kCgb3yPD2f9Ik_xzoaHuogOj2OBvkiq/s400/IMG_1562.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Feeling a lot more stuffed than last night, I almost forgot dessert was coming. Mama and TS both opted for a traditional Greek dense pressed yogurt, <strong><em><span style="color: #0b5394;">Yiaourti</span></em></strong>, topped with honey, roasted walnuts and cinnamon. I've never had pressed yogurt, so I was surprised by the heaviness of the dish, it almost tasted cheesy to me (at least in texture). It was tasty, but with a full stomach, I was happy I didn't go that route.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD9fzrmsfzVVCG1ETrD2VUzwX1NqWle-DnIWFSKRXYbvSg__dk0AldN0wg8HwYYa3D1_lB8sHC5YI44smn4Efdv0YNG9vI6IPaRsc2cFsYgozvueienzBH3DbVILXj90-Kbhf7eYP-mfzh/s1600/IMG_1561.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD9fzrmsfzVVCG1ETrD2VUzwX1NqWle-DnIWFSKRXYbvSg__dk0AldN0wg8HwYYa3D1_lB8sHC5YI44smn4Efdv0YNG9vI6IPaRsc2cFsYgozvueienzBH3DbVILXj90-Kbhf7eYP-mfzh/s400/IMG_1561.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I, instead, chose the <strong><em><span style="color: #0b5394;">Bailey's Creme Caramel</span></em></strong>. Although I could not taste the Bailey's (sigh), it was still the better choice. Light and silky, cool and refreshing...I had no problem sliding it all right off the plate, and into my mouth. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Two for two at this year's Summerlicious. We all left quite satisfied, but stuffed. In an attempt to burn off even a minor amount of calories, we went out in search of a Greek bakery selling some baklava only to be disappointed with an unsuccessful outcome. Instead, we decided to make plans to embark on another Summerlicious adventure (of ethnic choice, of course) for closing weekend.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"> I'm already doing research...what's your favorite type of food? Do you have any Summerlicious picks this year?</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
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</div>femme fraichehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11900939969288086288noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3350258473847438337.post-54170027419912856712010-07-12T13:38:00.000-07:002010-07-12T15:13:41.884-07:00Dare I? Summerlicious 2010: Part One: Middle Eastern FunSummerlicious started this weekend in Toronto, and despite being warned by several fellow foodies that it would be in my best interest to avoid any restaurant participating, I decided to try my luck. So I booked two reservations. Since my bank account has been less than cooperative this past little while, I figured, why not take advantage? I've been reading a lot of books by chefs and food critics lately--currently I'm working my way through <em>The Man Who Ate the World: In Search of the Perfect Dinner</em> by Jay Rayner and my cravings for something exotic have been extra ravenous. I ended up going for Middle Eastern at <strong><span style="color: #0b5394;"><a href="http://www.tabule.ca/">Tabule</a></span></strong> on Saturday evening and Greek on Sunday afternoon at<strong> <span style="color: #0b5394;"><a href="http://www.ouzeri.com/">Ouzeri</a></span></strong> (as a result of an already-planned trip to the Danforth)--two cuisines that my dinner plate is graced with rarely. <br />
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I must say that I was thrilled with the outcome of both my experiences. The service was not as bad as I was told it would be--although it <em>was</em> opening weekend and I'm sure that the servers had not had sufficient time to hate the world just yet. <br />
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My choice to go to Tabule was based on some spectacular reviews I read online. I was comforted immediately upon arrival, when the diners behind me were discussing how great the food was, as they too, waited to be seated. I interrupted to ask for their advice on which dish to pick, and they reassured me even more, not only by telling me that everything was tasty, but also adding in that they were Lebanese, and so probably tougher critics than most. Our server was not exactly the quickest at getting our drinks to the table, or coming back to take our order, but I didn't mind: for one, I'm a server, so I always tend to give them the benefit of the doubt, I understand that as a human being we are incapable of being a million places at once; and on top of it, I was enjoying the beautiful weather on the patio and was in no rush for the night, or the meal, to be over. She was more than friendly, informative and sympathetic to our lack of knowledge concerning Middle Eastern food--especially since I could not pronounce any of the menu items without looking like an blubbering idiot. <br />
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">We started with the <strong><em><span style="color: #0b5394;">Combination Plate of humüs, babaganüj, tabülè and falafel</span></em></strong> which came with some tasty warm pita bread. I realized we missed the point afterwards, as I watched a young boy at a neighbouring table open the pita and stuff it right up before indulging (I had simply ripped pieces of the bread to dip it). I had tried everything before, except for the tabülè, which we both found extremely tasty and refreshing. <br />
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We also shared the <strong><em><span style="color: #0b5394;">Kubbeh-cracked wheat shell stuffed with ground lamb and beef, onions and pine nuts</span></em></strong> which was my favorite of the appetizers, especially enjoyed with a dab of the garlic yogurt sauce (or a slathering mixture of every dip...)</div><br />
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For mains we had the <strong><em><span style="color: #0b5394;">Kefta Banadura</span></em></strong>, which was a combo of lamb and pork served in a tasty tomato stew with fresh pink onions, and the lemon garlic <strong><em><span style="color: #0b5394;">Salmon kebab.</span></em></strong></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8PLjL72p797W5lMgjhQDln-nThqLZvsSKfgYWagebnSwWKnZHdWaZY9xsKUYPitd7VIsJWZ1v6R93E_nNnyAugEgx-B4uyknGtqXhvDJFHQXSfSaBNw8RqdjyGpGzRlQV8jbPZN6PKwFO/s1600/IMG_1484.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8PLjL72p797W5lMgjhQDln-nThqLZvsSKfgYWagebnSwWKnZHdWaZY9xsKUYPitd7VIsJWZ1v6R93E_nNnyAugEgx-B4uyknGtqXhvDJFHQXSfSaBNw8RqdjyGpGzRlQV8jbPZN6PKwFO/s320/IMG_1484.JPG" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I, being the seafood lover I am, preferred the salmon (don't get me wrong, the <span style="color: black;">Kefta Banadura</span> was great too).</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
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</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"> My BF, GF, being the meat lover <em>he</em> is, preferred the Kefta. So instead of sharing, like we usually do, we stuck to our own dish, which I was completely content with. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I must say that one of my favorite parts of both dishes were their accompanments: the charcoal grilled veggies and rice. The vegetables were grilled <em>to perfection.</em> One of my favorite flavours, ever, is the taste of crispy black skinned red peppers. They immediately bring back memories of Daddio bbqing at our house on Flushing, with the Spalding umbrella of course, as he was cursed with rain <em>every. time.</em> he went out there.The grilled zucchini, yellow peppers and fried onions were amazing too. The perfect forkful came as a result of a combination of all the veggies, a dab of the delicious rice seasoned with a definite Middle Eastern flare, and a slice of salmon: heaven. Thank god GF was full before I was--my serving of veggies just wasn't enough...</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Our dessert picks ended off our meal on an even sweeter note: the burnt honey gelato had such a beautiful consistency (although the flavour was more along the lines of vanilla than honey).</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
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</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">But the real star was the <strong><em><span style="color: #0b5394;">Knaffa Ashta</span></em></strong>. We asked our server to pick our second dessert for us, so I barely read the menu description. I was expecting something dense like baklava, but was surprised and suddenly in love with what I experienced instead. The written description tells you it is an<strong><em><span style="color: #0b5394;"> "angel hair filo layered with custard and topped off with rose water syrup"</span></em></strong>, but it should really say that it is, in fact, a cloud of heaven, because that is exactly what it was. </div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRs1LKQYXBfsMdN06BrRpzdvRjyeH3Wwn-lhLxUejD09QAUcydDPsV5V4DR7hcYSr1s9cj3YlS0-SNdQN0rvR6gN7nZ2OoDaxdPfgS8txB_OWQmO_fd3PoLqm4BnI8kOOeF_cEjfj2AyKk/s1600/IMG_1490.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRs1LKQYXBfsMdN06BrRpzdvRjyeH3Wwn-lhLxUejD09QAUcydDPsV5V4DR7hcYSr1s9cj3YlS0-SNdQN0rvR6gN7nZ2OoDaxdPfgS8txB_OWQmO_fd3PoLqm4BnI8kOOeF_cEjfj2AyKk/s320/IMG_1490.JPG" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We both chuckled like children when it was placed in front of us, as we agreed that it almost resembles a lightly battered white fish, but fishy it was not, and creamy, fluffy perfection it was.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Overall, our meal was perfect. We usually end up preferring our appetizers, as we are both naturally pick-ers, share-ers and combine-ers, but this time we were proved otherwise--favouring our entrees and desserts. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">My fear slowly slipped away with the sun and I was more than anxious to indulge in another Summerlicious venture the following afternoon...</div>femme fraichehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11900939969288086288noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3350258473847438337.post-1942532662684826042010-07-10T03:51:00.000-07:002010-07-10T04:07:56.768-07:00When Push Comes to ShoveI've put up a couple posts about Lithuanian cooking, but not many people know a lot about Lithuania: the culture, the history, the people. I heard an interesting story yesterday and thought I'd share it with you, something you can read while you work on any one of their labour-intensive recipes. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpqO_6TpzeppaFtaxVcHUd1Ox2Gb917gDKukzKBoySDHIMFIG3Z94uN0oxhaBtnHnH4n1-uehXQP4ZB4PMIt04rUjaq34OpK_lQV1zsN9zhxl1qYqGe6M041EYRH5w5WTpOhxZpUxb4pVE/s1600/2036218635_449c1accbc.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpqO_6TpzeppaFtaxVcHUd1Ox2Gb917gDKukzKBoySDHIMFIG3Z94uN0oxhaBtnHnH4n1-uehXQP4ZB4PMIt04rUjaq34OpK_lQV1zsN9zhxl1qYqGe6M041EYRH5w5WTpOhxZpUxb4pVE/s320/2036218635_449c1accbc.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>Hill of Crosses-Šiauliai, Lithuania</em></div><br />
If you're feeling tired and sorry for yourself, read this story. <br />
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(<em>Reader's Note: Although this post is published on Saturday, it was written on Friday, on my BB Memo Pad)</em><br />
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It is Friday night at 10:30pm. And I'm home. I'm 23 and home and this is how I spend most of my Friday nights now. I wasn't home all night though. I had myself a pleasant little evening. I took a trip to the mall with my mom (standard practice for us, shopping, that is...we are seasoned shopping experts) and then we went to visit my aunt, Teta Sylvia, TS we call her, at her home in Port Credit. Another standard practice for us, a trip we have always enjoyed ever since we were little. Somehow, on the way down the 407, we ended up discussing our distaste for the Catholic Church. Not Catholicism, though, the Church, the building, institution. Somehow, the topic of religion got reintroduced at Teta's, but the aspect of religion that doesn't stir your intellect but ignites your soul: I'm talking religion outside institution--spirituality, faith...more importantly determination, perseverance, unhindered belief in something, someone maybe. <br />
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My aunt is an incredibly, incredibly talented artist. That statement is a huge understatement. You have to see it, really. On our visits, I love the trips we take around her house to see her work: of the new stuff first, found in her basement work area, which usually ends taking us back around the rest of the house to see stuff done earlier. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZXz7-psgZj1yrBw58-37v6hrlOSoLuT25gvIzR40EIgrcL8JiACwZ-OI4Cja5H55fJxgb-Gy43cvz7-nU-eMM9LV70BaGWsoFLZneAmytHK2IjKpsWkyFJrpOXAIIsp30jVzm0TbdHliT/s1600/Blessing+II.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZXz7-psgZj1yrBw58-37v6hrlOSoLuT25gvIzR40EIgrcL8JiACwZ-OI4Cja5H55fJxgb-Gy43cvz7-nU-eMM9LV70BaGWsoFLZneAmytHK2IjKpsWkyFJrpOXAIIsp30jVzm0TbdHliT/s320/Blessing+II.png" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>"Blessing II Laminas II by Silvija Saplys: Encaustic, photo transfer, oil"</em></div><br />
Tonight, I saw something new and so unbelievably interesting and touching. It was a collection of work done in <a href="http://www.encaustic.ca/">Encaustic</a>--a style of art done in a wax that preserves forever (unless faced with any extremity of heat or cold). Art work from the Egyptian Age still exists in this form. But the eternal life of these works was not all that caught my attention. This particular collection all shared one theme: they were all photos of the Hill of Crosses in Šiauliai, Lithuania. I've heard of the place before, I've seen the beautiful replica at St. John's Cemetery at the Anapilis Lithuanian Church, located just down the street from TS, a million times. But I did not know the weight of the story behind this famous Hill before tonight. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIEl9fU2U_uOH8GHaXfLk9ln_a5okwvvJban85KwhGhnSkSyYYIK0PrIy6ROPOlfAjGxClGj5FsrI4JTR-w7kHfGA79fwu_0I_kz9LS6r4GgETTM-i1FAvjUIGSt4NIMU1FcPlGCDz0L5o/s1600/Jesus-on-Cross.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIEl9fU2U_uOH8GHaXfLk9ln_a5okwvvJban85KwhGhnSkSyYYIK0PrIy6ROPOlfAjGxClGj5FsrI4JTR-w7kHfGA79fwu_0I_kz9LS6r4GgETTM-i1FAvjUIGSt4NIMU1FcPlGCDz0L5o/s320/Jesus-on-Cross.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>Hill of Crosses-Šiauliai, Lithuania</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Lithuania suffered as an occupied state for much of its history--in Medieval times and during and after World War II. Since it stood as a symbol of national strength against invaders, this Hill of Crosses was bulldozed repeatedly during Soviet Occupation in Lithuania. However, after every bout of destruction followed a night of regeneration: the Lithuanians would go right back and rebuild the Hill, cross by thousandth cross, until all tens of thousands of crosses were standing tall once again. Every. Time. Eventually the Soviets got tired and gave up. The Lithuanians never did. So many times when I tell people I'm Lithuanian, they look at me puzzled. It is indeed a small Baltic nation, but small-willed it is not. If such a small power-less nation, at a time when power was so frightening, could win against a force so strong that it is responsible for one the greatest tragedies in human history, who says you can't win your battles? Think twice before you give up on your task or goals, think three times before you succumb to the power of someone elses words or actions, think four times before you give up on yourself.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-LbEuKHL3gUEv6dqTE8W6Be5N0UeOJ6JcdHWzxYTmv1xVzhGHsGY2X0e9YtJNstABeL18V1yut7v6CRW8LgxPgsTMfJylT6uEawVmrlWEY4UtrX-Jzac7oArBX4b4a5j39Xv-FyOlJoVi/s1600/let+there+be+peace+in+lithuania.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-LbEuKHL3gUEv6dqTE8W6Be5N0UeOJ6JcdHWzxYTmv1xVzhGHsGY2X0e9YtJNstABeL18V1yut7v6CRW8LgxPgsTMfJylT6uEawVmrlWEY4UtrX-Jzac7oArBX4b4a5j39Xv-FyOlJoVi/s320/let+there+be+peace+in+lithuania.png" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>"Let There Be Peace in Lithuania-Tebūna Lietuvoje Taika" by Silvija Saplys: Encaustic, Photo Transfer, Charcoal</em> </div><br />
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I <em><strong>insist</strong></em> you check out my Teta Silvija Saplys' website, especially if you are a lover of beauty and art (aren't we all?). Her work inspired me tonight--just as she has inspired and motivated me countless times in the past, and I'm sure, will continue to do so in the future. xoxo (Sorry Teta, I stole a few photos from your site)<br />
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<em><a href="http://www.silvijasaplys.com/">http://www.silvijasaplys.com/</a> </em><br />
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<em>Since the medieval period, the Hill of Crosses has represented the peaceful resistance of Lithuanian Catholicism to oppression.- <a href="http://www.sacredsites.com/europe/lithuania/lithuania.html">http://www.sacredsites.com/europe/lithuania/lithuania.html</a> </em>femme fraichehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11900939969288086288noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3350258473847438337.post-54382860792703416112010-07-04T04:27:00.000-07:002010-07-07T03:21:49.578-07:00A Canadian in Paris: Patisserie Queen Silvana Colosimo<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKGwIHVuzuBh0c2FbnzShQUZmj-Vme-E6armRlfXydI_RZ1AMao0YoeVbK2torT9vzsGr2Dv_xllRBP4zyEVfQDvpHCWbxjizAGpCgADJ3puH2T_Tup7AlRhqBEq0fv3D24PSefksL7J-t/s1600/32213_431649210836_645400836_6305165_2659902_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKGwIHVuzuBh0c2FbnzShQUZmj-Vme-E6armRlfXydI_RZ1AMao0YoeVbK2torT9vzsGr2Dv_xllRBP4zyEVfQDvpHCWbxjizAGpCgADJ3puH2T_Tup7AlRhqBEq0fv3D24PSefksL7J-t/s320/32213_431649210836_645400836_6305165_2659902_n.jpg" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Since I am extremely sentimental and emotional, I am inspired easily. I love the high it gives me so I constantly look for ways to refuel on that energy. There is one particular person who has inspired me greatly over this past year, and she does it each and every time she updates her status on Facebook or adds photos to her profile, and that person is my friend and a past co-worker Silvana Colosimo. Silvana and I worked together at Moxie's a few years ago. I always remember a first impression of a person and that image will always stay with me, even as I grow to learn the person on different levels. Silvana is the type of person that always made me smile--and that's because hers was so large it was impossible not to be infected by it. Her positive energy, constant encouragement and bubbly personality were all things that made me like her as much as I did. Since online social networking allows us to always stay connected even when we are apart, and since her close friend and soul mate SB still works with me I stayed in touch with Silly even after she left us at Moxie's. I had heard her speak of her dreams to open up a bakery, but they always seemed like the type of goal someone talks about as if they could only achieve it in a fairytale version of their lives. So when I heard that Silvana had gotten accepted to Le Cordon Blue in Paris, France, I <em>could not</em> have been more excited for her. She was about to embark on what will probably be the greatest experience of her life while proving to the rest of us that it is never too late to achieve our goals and we really can live our dreams. Since my interest in travelling is feverish, I have spent much time creeping her on Facebook and I must say that, being a lover of <em>la belle ville</em> of Paris, I have found myself both extremely jealous. In order to satisfy my curious appetite, I asked Silvana if I could do a short profile on her on my blog, because I a)am so ridiculously inspired by her and am dying to show the world her passion b)to be filled in on all the details of her adventure. We had ourselves a short little interview-styled-chat via FB and I've posted it below for you. So read up, and dream on my friends...</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlxrk0GH42tZacHuR8PcmFxFUqF-oRPLgsJHb8lzeZCx-EAnm4omYKnFzNiYhdrWWvr4DpntnCV7xwFcc36QCrkDMtId4paBqPbSu2Cbi4w1a4UJb_i2uHcKKdJWb5exYLUy1idBEDEmna/s1600/25321_410398020836_645400836_5756956_5805843_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlxrk0GH42tZacHuR8PcmFxFUqF-oRPLgsJHb8lzeZCx-EAnm4omYKnFzNiYhdrWWvr4DpntnCV7xwFcc36QCrkDMtId4paBqPbSu2Cbi4w1a4UJb_i2uHcKKdJWb5exYLUy1idBEDEmna/s320/25321_410398020836_645400836_5756956_5805843_n.jpg" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><em><span style="color: #3d85c6;">When I first met you at Moxie’s, I remember you talking about your dreams to be a pastry chef as something you believed in just as much as you believed in Santa Claus...what made you change your mind and turn those dreams in a tangible goal you were ready to achieve?</span></em> </div><br />
I grew up.. it took a while, but somehow one day I saw things a lot more clearly. I realized that there is no reason to be afraid to pursue any goal no matter how difficult it may seem. Instead, I should be afraid of missing those opportunities,and the regret looking back on what I could have achieved. I took a hope-full leap of faith I guess .<br />
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<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSPh_JiK9y0sKk2k9VHSeqhHWSaBTsWiS9gyIOmh2gzc3XeE-ZvJayeNC7dRUePPJAG6mejw_udznoKMrU4WIAOIyihTMTjSxpjE_RqzuGoyaMyZbYQEkqgDa_RMv4EWotcGW7kPn83rMA/s1600/25321_410397995836_645400836_5756954_2664785_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSPh_JiK9y0sKk2k9VHSeqhHWSaBTsWiS9gyIOmh2gzc3XeE-ZvJayeNC7dRUePPJAG6mejw_udznoKMrU4WIAOIyihTMTjSxpjE_RqzuGoyaMyZbYQEkqgDa_RMv4EWotcGW7kPn83rMA/s320/25321_410397995836_645400836_5756954_2664785_n.jpg" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><em><span style="color: #3d85c6;">Usually, when people make such a big change in their life to move to a foreign country, to change a profession, to essentially start over, there decision is inspired, whether it be from a person or a life experience...was your choice inspired, and if so, by what or whom?</span></em> </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDSBPmyaCyXfpdcuSHB8VoQmvuGTcrMdKXRzpXAGgHcHss_ORd9LT4J2CV-SYcVPg4ha0FvvmiysFRSApTY8C2Ghji26wjfx6KSbmJtIWJdHg202dNR6P2q81560YQItoAT8EMEYe157Yv/s1600/silly6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDSBPmyaCyXfpdcuSHB8VoQmvuGTcrMdKXRzpXAGgHcHss_ORd9LT4J2CV-SYcVPg4ha0FvvmiysFRSApTY8C2Ghji26wjfx6KSbmJtIWJdHg202dNR6P2q81560YQItoAT8EMEYe157Yv/s320/silly6.jpg" /></a>I have been blessed in my life with many life learning "inspirations" as you may call them. When I was younger I had a brain tumor, and it was a difficult time in my life. I realized at the time that there is no purpose in living in this world unless you are going to make the most of it. I call this a blessing, because after overcoming that difficult time in my life, I see things differently, and choose to look at life as a "sweet" adventure.. so right now I am on a baking one! Also, my family is and always will be my backbone.. and inspire me always to strive for the best!</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><em><span style="color: #3d85c6;">What was the toughest part of leaving?</span></em> <br />
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The toughest part of leaving was embarking on the unknown. I was starting from scratch.I didn't know where I was going to live.. how to get around, how to speak French, and I didn't know one person in Paris... leaving my family and friends behind was also tough.<br />
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<em><span style="color: #3d85c6;">What has been your favourite learning experience so far?</span></em> <br />
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I have learned so much.. I realized that Patience is a great virtue in life,and in the kitchen. I compare a lot of things in life to baking.. like for example chocolate. It needs to be "tempered". It needs to be handled and melted gently and slowly until it reaches the proper temperature so that it can be molded and shine. I guess in life we need the same patience in order to mold our lives and shine!</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
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<em><span style="color: #3d85c6;">Your pastries are beautiful and seem so expert...what is favourite masterpiece to date and why?</span></em><br />
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<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpdopwlWv2qEs_g7IlcBJdeO-suiffbkaj0ptJ9ekpFL1cp_NYA1xX8bCJVk7XwrLLXq6y4mCPdNrTOt1faesg5O3fAxw1eFdpXQbZEHwDA2LCmwzC3b4u4KJ5lQb9JRmIEQ5lYvgBhOkM/s1600/Sill2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpdopwlWv2qEs_g7IlcBJdeO-suiffbkaj0ptJ9ekpFL1cp_NYA1xX8bCJVk7XwrLLXq6y4mCPdNrTOt1faesg5O3fAxw1eFdpXQbZEHwDA2LCmwzC3b4u4KJ5lQb9JRmIEQ5lYvgBhOkM/s320/Sill2.jpg" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I think this is a funny question because I feel far from expert at the moment! In France there are so many exquisite chefs..artists is a better word for them. Just when you think you can't see or taste anything more delicious, you find something even better. I am learning more and more each day. I will be experimenting with my own flavors and textures when I get back to Canada. In the meantime I'm just an eager student trying to absorb as much as I can!</div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><em><span style="color: #3d85c6;">Is Paris home to you now or do you still plan to return home once you’re done your studies?</span></em></div></div><br />
Right now I am living in the South of France in a town called Nice. I left Paris to come here to do my "stage". I'll be working for well known patisserie here. Saying good-bye to Paris was tough. It was home for me, and will always have a place in my heart. <br />
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<em><span style="color: #3d85c6;">What is your favourite part about living in Paris?</span></em> <br />
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It feels like you're living in a storybook everyday...<br />
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</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><em><span style="color: #3d85c6;">In your expert opinion, what is your favourite patisserie in Paris?</span></em></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">My palette loves Pierre Herme. Their macarons are mysteriously perfect. Something I think they hold the secret to. A slight crunch on the outside, moist and melt in your mouth on the inside. Many shops have tried to compare, but I don't think any can. I also adore Ladure. </div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW0TXIiINTBC42eGqttkkKAO7vR7UCUABZ7YMRp8-jhFPhmMeqccYodPJtjS5EyP11Nwzy1UFXQe0piZFTwvLke59_xBkd898DhB61Y7NLsl_Rds9KUWpHsrYVo6X8upafdvEk5GPYYAeu/s1600/silly7.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW0TXIiINTBC42eGqttkkKAO7vR7UCUABZ7YMRp8-jhFPhmMeqccYodPJtjS5EyP11Nwzy1UFXQe0piZFTwvLke59_xBkd898DhB61Y7NLsl_Rds9KUWpHsrYVo6X8upafdvEk5GPYYAeu/s320/silly7.bmp" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="color: #3d85c6;"><em>Pick your favourite French pastry, dessert or dish and why? Is there a reason for your choice besides taste, for example, the story behind the creation of the dish or perhaps the person who created it?</em></span></div><br />
This is a toughy! I guess when it all come down to it, the croissant will always be my favorite. When made right, with really good French butter, and just out of the oven, they are heavenly!! when I get back to Canada I will try to import the French butter!<br />
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="color: #3d85c6;"><em>You are currently moving to Nice for the summer for an additional program...what will you be learning there?</em></span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I am working in a gorgeous Patisserie called Canet. They make everything from gelato, to chocolate, to entremets, to cakes. I will be learning how to make all of these things there.</div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><em><span style="color: #3d85c6;">Once you finish up at Le Cordon Blue, what will you do with all the knowledge you have gained and the skills you have enhanced?</span></em><br />
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I graduated with a patisserie Diplome at Le Cordon Bleu Paris this past June. I started with only minimal baking skills. They taught us slowly with the basics, and worked us up to more complicated techniques. Everything we learned was done without electronic equipment, so all whipping, beating, turning, rolling, cutting,etc. was done with my very own hands and arms. I think my right arm is now stronger than my left, haha.</div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><em><span style="color: #3d85c6;">What are your dreams for the future?</span></em></div><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I have dreams of owning my own Patisserie one day soon. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><em><span style="color: #3d85c6;">What has been the toughest part of your experience? The most rewarding? The most discouraging?</span></em><br />
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<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeCYBXq6fFDS6dz2X_ZTstjhVAG12Z_CPOLAChHtE9lE1wZDtMREUT7Sy-_gJIlFFq8kW8VcXBiaM846atot9xTJLMG2g-TxDrmcpasYMdAtDrw1t1xS0l-uVTsgw1HsmE73-_4Fdbc5XR/s1600/silly9.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeCYBXq6fFDS6dz2X_ZTstjhVAG12Z_CPOLAChHtE9lE1wZDtMREUT7Sy-_gJIlFFq8kW8VcXBiaM846atot9xTJLMG2g-TxDrmcpasYMdAtDrw1t1xS0l-uVTsgw1HsmE73-_4Fdbc5XR/s320/silly9.bmp" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">In a big City like Paris it is tough not to feel lonely at times. I missed my family a lot, especially on those cold, damp, winter days.Big cities can make you feel very small.</div><br />
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">This whole experience has been the reward. I loved every minute of this adventure, and still am. The most discouraging part was learning another language. When I got to Paris I didn't speak a word of French. Everything I learned in grade school had faded. I was shy all over again, just like a child. I now have a better grasp of it, but it's funny to see people's facial expressions when I speak to them. I instantly know when I have said something that doesn't make any sense.</div><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHIZfZdUoMLWLHclFBadVhL9qQdUFYnINROsx-BGVDX1GeZ2DbSo3dRoQDZsaDpx20ZnpRsjBP9yrdiXMBl_xOfofXqrnMGccw4XOj9f5PUwYP0njnHL3mexln9GyEeddllNHW7hHfFMfR/s1600/silly4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHIZfZdUoMLWLHclFBadVhL9qQdUFYnINROsx-BGVDX1GeZ2DbSo3dRoQDZsaDpx20ZnpRsjBP9yrdiXMBl_xOfofXqrnMGccw4XOj9f5PUwYP0njnHL3mexln9GyEeddllNHW7hHfFMfR/s320/silly4.jpg" /></a><em><span style="color: #3d85c6;">What advice can you offer other people starting off in your field?</span></em></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I think it's important to know that even though baking seems fun, and sweet there is so much hard work involved. It is far from glamorous behind the scenes. there are some crazy hours involved in some very hot kitchens. If you love it though, your passion for it will keep you going regardless of all the work. Do it, follow you dreams!</div></div><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><em>Also, people in the same position as you, who may be starting out a bit later?</em></span> <br />
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgziqCpDbq9GkqkVcMStUm6dHhx0gyGAzlhg9IzqK4HDrTDLODgobMbIxAyU3LuAO7pLAWX7lbimMvu0UpGt_j_ivmaAz0TlJUbr7z89qVl3KJhJCXV8qgDWi8aUrDFocxc-8Eq7eLL1VgY/s1600/untitled.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgziqCpDbq9GkqkVcMStUm6dHhx0gyGAzlhg9IzqK4HDrTDLODgobMbIxAyU3LuAO7pLAWX7lbimMvu0UpGt_j_ivmaAz0TlJUbr7z89qVl3KJhJCXV8qgDWi8aUrDFocxc-8Eq7eLL1VgY/s320/untitled.bmp" /></a>In my opinion, age should never be a deciding factor on pursuing ones dreams. There is a certain confidence that comes with starting out at a later age. I know myself better now than I did when I was twenty. I have very few doubts about what I want to accomplish.</div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5pI3Todbqy2oaaUzix7LARPbO26O7SiG__9qSJ2wIiOjC1G386Non9lZIB7TOuS0G9QTCQqu9afr8IqQ8ijP10957HE39_R_CpzjS-jKJgU_6QGoS5hxWKnlJCFvZEG6vqC8a6XRnSJGw/s1600/25321_410397980836_645400836_5756951_6602831_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: right; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5pI3Todbqy2oaaUzix7LARPbO26O7SiG__9qSJ2wIiOjC1G386Non9lZIB7TOuS0G9QTCQqu9afr8IqQ8ijP10957HE39_R_CpzjS-jKJgU_6QGoS5hxWKnlJCFvZEG6vqC8a6XRnSJGw/s320/25321_410397980836_645400836_5756951_6602831_n.jpg" /></a><span style="color: #3d85c6;"><em>If you could do it all over, would you change anything you did?</em></span> </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Nothing at all, I am very thankful these days. </div><br />
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</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><em>Thank you Silly, for being such a willing candidate for my first ever blog interview, and also for being the amazing person that you are! Congratulations on all your accomplishments and I can't wait to come visit your Patisserie in Par-ee!!</em></div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">As I'm sure you've noticed, I've posted a few shots of Silvana's amazingly decadent creations...it was tough to pick which ones to post but there are many more!</div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrvkC_TPTXcEvG6GV52Y6iecoI82dbtH9ZL7eo5ikJEAIlGMa0HssHHIavIlNRAx9xICzZH30fHi_OC24xqwAL5UYdQ_QRTMJezho_sJqAo-1f4m_67JbNT_i85njfDDLbrRVCjLvc_H9q/s1600/Silly1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrvkC_TPTXcEvG6GV52Y6iecoI82dbtH9ZL7eo5ikJEAIlGMa0HssHHIavIlNRAx9xICzZH30fHi_OC24xqwAL5UYdQ_QRTMJezho_sJqAo-1f4m_67JbNT_i85njfDDLbrRVCjLvc_H9q/s320/Silly1.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVkO15tWPsMb2FfzolfVQVaaAKK8Vi_9Aq0FxAtB0Q0lnHggy-BbmP6bhMMuNjsonOUStyMF4SOlJ-lbXWvtC1_1dbNv9rzv58L49lA7te-dzN3mDquZPuBE457nO6JE5Bdxm19OP7AzFo/s1600/silly3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVkO15tWPsMb2FfzolfVQVaaAKK8Vi_9Aq0FxAtB0Q0lnHggy-BbmP6bhMMuNjsonOUStyMF4SOlJ-lbXWvtC1_1dbNv9rzv58L49lA7te-dzN3mDquZPuBE457nO6JE5Bdxm19OP7AzFo/s320/silly3.jpg" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2LLnOJb3GIXNCGDI6OemJA-71fmb2lU-LB1Qv442qng6oQrRwCngUjbiW06qTAamWH2OX_VbVCImUIESciyVMzynNKVactvKSsEEdWEW2SsH_GFSfifffCJBmmEnzNH1ccT-VjqUc8-ed/s1600/sill4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2LLnOJb3GIXNCGDI6OemJA-71fmb2lU-LB1Qv442qng6oQrRwCngUjbiW06qTAamWH2OX_VbVCImUIESciyVMzynNKVactvKSsEEdWEW2SsH_GFSfifffCJBmmEnzNH1ccT-VjqUc8-ed/s320/sill4.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWt5RJcUCgGrZc5RXZGiRCKQHcQfnK6fduP-e91W87pCoonCUUSCeKfVT65sMF0fyDHmTwwqMoneeilJlx9YBLn1Xx9DGzCbqPXeMSB_FE8cFM0Df-HHK8zWIvxybHAoasvmRddyCSfHmX/s1600/silly5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWt5RJcUCgGrZc5RXZGiRCKQHcQfnK6fduP-e91W87pCoonCUUSCeKfVT65sMF0fyDHmTwwqMoneeilJlx9YBLn1Xx9DGzCbqPXeMSB_FE8cFM0Df-HHK8zWIvxybHAoasvmRddyCSfHmX/s320/silly5.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">-----</div>femme fraichehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11900939969288086288noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3350258473847438337.post-54459651776095797982010-07-03T11:48:00.000-07:002010-07-03T11:48:36.885-07:00For my dear and fellow work-out-aholic-friends<em>Reader's Note: Although this may be a food blog, this particular post is not about food, because as much as I think and dream about the stuff constantly, indulgences do not come without a price and us fraîche femmes sometimes need to work off our Camembert and wine binges. </em><br />
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Hi, my name is Liana and I am a work-out-aholic. For those who work out regularly (or obsessively) like myself, you know just as well as I that we have our ups and our downs, our highs and our lows. I find my self having the same frustrated conversations with fellow work-out-aholics EC and M-Sac every couple weeks: we've gained weight, we're tired, we're bored, etc etc etc...just to be followed by some very passionate conversations about how incredible our run was the other day and how lean we feel just a few short days later. Looking at us from the outside, you'd probably think we're psychotic, but being the work-out-aholics that we are, we get each other, we get <em>it.</em> So in lieu of the fact that my morning consisted of two back-to-back frustrated convos, my recent obscene amount of sodium intake due to a soupy diet, and a shortened work day courtesy of a painful mouth, I have compiled a list of how <em>I</em> deal with those ruts that get us all so down, that make us feel like work-out-amateurs all over again, that bring out the previous heavy self-conscious version of our self we thought we were rid of for good. So here are my tips, from one addict to the other. By no means do they have any medical significance, they're just what work for me and keep me sane when I'm about to pull my hair out strand for strand.<br />
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Neurosis #1: OMG I gained weight. I can feel it, I can see it. I give up.<br />
fraîche advise: If you work out regularly, as in multiple times a week <em>every</em> week (breaks saved for vacations or surgeries) than chances are you did not gain weight over night. Consuming an extra 100 calories the odd couple times a week and/or being a bit more lax in your workout for a few days will not ruin your progress. If you gained pounds on the scale chances are you're bloated, retaining water, or eating too much salt.<br />
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that leads me to my next tip:<br />
Neurosis #2: I am both bloated and dehydrated all at the same time. I feel like a giant puffy whale.<br />
fraîche advice: Rule #1-do not try to flush out your excess salt by drowning yourself in water. In my experience, it only makes the situation worse. Instead, consume your regular amount of water and schedule in a trip to your favorite cycling class. I promise you if you <em>stop</em> drinking water, you're body will be able to rid itself of all the build up, especially by sweating it out. Spend the rest of the day (or next couple days, if necessary) avoiding diet Pepsi splurges (that might tempt you during lunch rushes), avoid eating red onions raw in your salad, and try to stay away from any form of packaged food. <br />
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Neurosis #3: OMG I suck at working out. I can't even run my regular run, my legs are so tired and my feet are dragging. I will never recover I should just give up at working out because I'm an unfit sloth.<br />
fraîche advice: Relax, you don't suck. There's a couple reasons for this usually. a) If you're legs are too tired to do your regular run, chances are you're the exact opposite of lazy and you've in fact been working yourself a wee bit too hard. Shorten your runs for a week and try switching it up with something like swimming (my current obsession, which has actually lasted me since the early winter so I think it's an obsession that's here to stay), or the elliptical, or spinning. b) My legs feel bulky and heavy when I do leg weights so I try to save those for the end of the week when I won't be running for a couple days. c) I also usually go through a mid-week bloading feel, where all my workouts seem to build up into my muscles and I feel like I've gained a few pounds despite watching my diet religiously and having great workouts. I've come to recognize this is norm, though, so I don't sweat it--it's nothing a good Saturday morning spin class with Paolo can't fix. d) I usually run on a treadmill, but sometimes in nice weather I take it outside to switch up the scenary. The impact on pavement is much more intense that it is inside, and my body isn't used to running inclines or against elements, so usually by the end of those weeks or runs I find my body feels quite sluggish. Just rest it out, take it back inside for a few days and you'll be golden.<br />
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Neurosis #4: (this one inspired by my convos this morning, in particular) Weights make me bulky and mannish. That's it, I'm cutting them out for good now.<br />
fraîche advice: Although I am no expert weight lifter, and many say any work I do with dumbbells is reversed by my 45 minute daily runs, especially friend and personal trainers MG and DJ, I do recommend that weights, even if it is a weak effort, be included in at least half your sessions. Breaks are acceptable and definitely necessary, however, cutting it out completely has led to quite a few collisions at work as I walk with my head down, transfixed on the cottage cheese ripple that has appeared on my right thigh. I prefer circuits with high reps and relatively low reps--always keeps me motivated and doesn't kill my energy.<br />
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Neurosis #5: I hate food. I especially hate salad, canned tuna, salmon, veggies, light cool whip and yogurt. I am so bored of everything so I just won't eat anymore until I can't take the hunger pangs anymore and I consume a whole box of sugary cereal in one sitting (or a whole tube of ice cream, or peanut butter, whatever your thing may be)<br />
fraîche advice: I do not judge those who count their calories, in fact, I do it myself. And yes, I watch my carb intake too, limiting it to earlier meals. However, I save <em>at least</em>, one to two days a week for my indulgences. Anything goes on these days, my diet journal is shoved away, resos are usually made and lots and lots of bread is consumed. Somehow, when the next day comes I don't feel gross or fat, but I usually feel just as good as I did all week, if not better. I've read some articles on carb-cycling, I like the way those people think. We need breaks, often ones, too, to remain sane (and to enjoy life)<br />
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I'm going to stop here, because my posts always seem to end up being so ridiculously long, even when I intend for them to be short and sweet. And also because my paranoia are creeping up as I continue to think about them. But I will leave you with one last parting note. Sometimes I will go through an entire week feeling gross. How do I deal with it? I just do. It's happened so many times now (and I've recovered through each and every scenario) for me to know it's just a bad week. The more you think about it, the more you'll believe it, the more you'll be hard on yourself, the harder you'll work, the more tired you'll feel, the more inclined you'll be to give up, the more likely you'll be to feel even more gross and disgusting than you did to begin with. Just relax, give yourself a break, cut your body some slack, and I promise next week will get better, you <em>will</em> learn to run again, those couple pounds you've convinced yourself you've put on will be gone soon enough. Remember that you're body is not a foreign object but a part of <em>you,</em> so treat it with the same respect you'd expect someone else to treat you with.femme fraichehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11900939969288086288noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3350258473847438337.post-82888229075075541022010-07-03T04:36:00.000-07:002010-07-03T04:36:59.263-07:00Magich in the Kitch: RDL Part 1Cooking has always had a mysterious element to me. The raw ingredients are the white rabbits or the deck of the cards or that impossibly long multi-coloured silk scarf, the chef is the magician--creating something so unique out of his original, unexceptional tools. I think it's supposed to be that way, magical, I mean. Isn't that why the term "secret ingredient exists"? Isn't that what a chef is supposed to be? Mysterious, creative, energetic, imaginative, a master with his hands, with a knife--an inventor of sorts, but the one that copyrights his secrets in his mind, rarely passing them on, only to those that have earned and deserved them. That is what intrigues me about cooking: wondering how one art can be both so simple, or so complex, can evoke so many different emotions, can effect so many moods, can extend to so many different parts of your life--and most of the time, with you having no idea how it is done. It brings out the little girl in me (albeit, she is not very hard to find)<br />
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I have recently had the pleasure of meeting a true magician in the kitchen. My bf, GF, and I rank having slumber parties consisting of cooking and watching bootlegged movies as our favourite idea of a "date night". We usually spend Saturday night experimenting in the kitchen of his basement and then Sunday immobile on the couch. We always save ourselves some leftovers in anticipation of hunger pang's around noon the next day, which would of course come accompanied with no desire to go shopping for a new creation. Whenever I'm going over for the night (and cooking is not on the agenda) he <em>always</em> tells me to pack myself my dinner, a snack, etc..."we got nothing here, eh, my mom didn't go shopping". And trust me, he's not lying. I've opened the fridge and the cupboards in curiosity, I've seen the bare shelves with my own two eyes. <br />
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But I am <em>absolutely</em> convinced that they have a secret cupboard, or at the very least, a factory of elves somewhere in the house that work silently over night to whip up some crazy delicious dishes. Because after every night I've spent there, I wake up to some amazing aroma of garlic, or tomato sauce, or stewing rabbit, or sauteed rapini, even despite the fact that front door hasn't been unlocked yet and the cars are still cold from not being moved. However, alas, I have searched high and low and have found no hidden cupboard and no trace of worker elves. No no, this is indeed the work of one lady, the magician herself, Anna, GF's mama. <br />
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A brand new nonna herself to beautiful baby Ella, Anna has spent much of her life in a kitchen. And not a professional one either. (I even learned this weekend that her mother and sister don't quite possess the talent she does) Her techniques have been learned through her lifelong passion to feed her family only the best and freshest food (and through her husband, another excellent cook, and through owning a small family-run bar for several years). Every occasion at the Lisi household is celebrated with a big feast. The first time I met the family was over a Sunday lunch in celebration of his older brother's birthday. My boyfriend and his brother always received their birthday presents in form of their favorite dish, and unwrapping presents from under the Christmas tree? That didn't happen, simply because wrapping up snails and quails with bows and tissue would be less appetizing or sanitary. (My mom and I were shocked when we learned Santa never existed for them and gifts were always edible and never a surprise, but he was perfectly content with his tradition) They are one of the only families here, that I know, that still make homemade sausage (which are unbelievable, especially ground up in sauce and served with polenta), their own jarred tomato sauce, their own pizza dough, pasta dough and lasagna noodles. I can guarantee you that any meal made at the Lisi household is made entirely from scratch, well most of them, which is more than many of us can say. <br />
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I owe a lot of my recent passion for rustic food, simple ingredients and meat to Anna's cooking. I'm always anxious to wake up on Sunday morning to see what she's got going on on the stove or in the oven. I <em>of course</em> love the Sunday celebration feasts that happen for birthdays, holidays, baby showers and newborns. They have opened my eyes to the world of tripe, rabbit, osso buco and quail. But my favorite Sunday's are the ones that come every week, the regular ones, when my plate seems to be filled with a incredible creation made from the ingredients of Neverland.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>My favorite dish so far, which I don't have a picture of, obviously, as it came to me out of nowhere, from left field, was the orecchiette with rapini. That's it, that's all it was. A bowl of cooked orecchiette and sauteed rapini--but it was outstanding, really, I was blown away by the flavours. <br />
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This Sunday we woke up to another surprise, and this one I was ready for: <em> </em><br />
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<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhABMIf7-BqC6BTXNa166D2kutX0ayXoNmINrIqhshLI-AaHFzfeLPkgUyNe0LwDQkrnFvslov7BJACz0xgd8jY9FQRSfcUI92hBmGPGFu7edqrwp_pRE7HPXljIpEYbQaxIJ7cDK9_7XAk/s1600/IMG_1360.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhABMIf7-BqC6BTXNa166D2kutX0ayXoNmINrIqhshLI-AaHFzfeLPkgUyNe0LwDQkrnFvslov7BJACz0xgd8jY9FQRSfcUI92hBmGPGFu7edqrwp_pRE7HPXljIpEYbQaxIJ7cDK9_7XAk/s320/IMG_1360.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>Homemade fettuccine (yes, the noodles were homemade), with tomato sauce and meatballs, sauteed green beans in garlic (and something else I'm sure which made them quite extra-ordinary) and chicken barbecued in a marinade created by my boyfriend, actually. (I'll spare you the ingredients, as you may lose your appetite, but I promise it was very tasty) </em></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">So, if you ever are craving a magical adventure, and Disney Land just isn't quite in your budget, let me know and I'll take you on a culinary tour through the Lisi Land of Wonder. Trust me, Mickey will not be missed.</div><div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>femme fraichehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11900939969288086288noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3350258473847438337.post-42682738438235598612010-07-02T13:52:00.000-07:002010-07-02T13:59:07.342-07:00Džiovintų Vaisių Pyragas (Dried Fruit Cake)<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I decided that this recipe might be the perfect end to what I have dubbed my "Lithuanian-themed-week". (Did I pick the wrong country to celebrate this week, whooppps!) If I took one thing away from this learning experience it's this: if you want to make any type of Lithuanian dish, whether it be their tasty Cepelinai (stuffed jumbo potato dumplings) or Napoleonas (layered butter cake), you better clear up your schedule. They are a clearly a culture which takes both pride and lots of time when it comes to preparing their national dishes. I got a taste of this(unintentional pun on words), as I spent the past two days baking my Tevukas' favorite cake with my mother in anticipation of their lunch visit today. </div><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">If you have any special men in your life, I promise you they will kiss your feet if you make them this. (It's <em>especially</em> good for either clamboring back up out of any hole you may have currently dug yourself in to, but it also works well for storing some killer brownie points for your next shopping trip together) For some reason men are obsessed with this--from my Lithuanian grandfather to my Italian boyfriend and his father--even my grandmother says so, and we all know your grandmother is always right. The literal translation of the name is "Dried Fruit Cake", and basically that's all it is (plus cream, butter, smashed tea biscuits, toasted almonds and two days worth of work...) </div><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">So without further adieu, I will guide you through this process. I won't bore you with any more of its history, because you don't have time to read it anyways!!</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><strong><span style="background-color: #0b5394; color: #93c47d;">What you'll need:</span></strong></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">-one spring form pan</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">-serving platter (tape the pan onto the platter)</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">-1/4 pound of butter</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">-1/2 cup sugar</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">-3 egg yolks</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">-1 package each of dried apricots and dried prunes (*<span style="background-color: #0b5394; color: #6aa84f;">Note:</span> this is an ancient recipe so clearly this isn't accurate. I can't even give you a tip here because whenever we make this my mom always ends up buying too much of both sooo I guess you can judge by my photos? Sorry!)</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">-1 small whipping cream</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">-2 packages of Christie's Social Tea Biscuits</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">-1 package of slivered almonds</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Dz2Cmk2Pz-gH9JNRihjSvZektgPrpcJrBoX_7yQs3hbivAR_rlsPxTopIP-QlzbrQXnqa4Kmkf9ujQl96alPrpIVMF1pCvOmk60U_lv4_kspwYAc-PuSuHbUWrgHHgwISnSgQkN1v4dP/s1600/IMG_1365.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Dz2Cmk2Pz-gH9JNRihjSvZektgPrpcJrBoX_7yQs3hbivAR_rlsPxTopIP-QlzbrQXnqa4Kmkf9ujQl96alPrpIVMF1pCvOmk60U_lv4_kspwYAc-PuSuHbUWrgHHgwISnSgQkN1v4dP/s320/IMG_1365.JPG" /></a>First you begin by simmering the dried apricots and prunes with just enough water for the fruits to absorb and soften (about 1 1/2-2 cups)</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: #0b5394; color: #6aa84f;">*Note:</span> preserve 6-8 apricots and 3-4 prunes for decoration.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Stir continuously, letting them cook until they look like this: </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0Av5kw8UoQA7sT_l5Htmo4YHGkcufIANznYCr8m1l7B51GxIrXcoWjCiakoZmD0uKzjjrcFyl6oyG8NbHx3zbIMn9PUjZXoC4OI3ZlcFcQB4tBTjWGoNNm-HpLmDihgYKm9lX1kCQtDXs/s1600/IMG_1371.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0Av5kw8UoQA7sT_l5Htmo4YHGkcufIANznYCr8m1l7B51GxIrXcoWjCiakoZmD0uKzjjrcFyl6oyG8NbHx3zbIMn9PUjZXoC4OI3ZlcFcQB4tBTjWGoNNm-HpLmDihgYKm9lX1kCQtDXs/s320/IMG_1371.JPG" /></a>Mmmm looks tasty doesn't it? Okay you don't have to lie to me but just wait till your done, you'll be singing a different tune my friend!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">While they cool, prepare your cream mixture by combining the softened butter with sugar and egg yolks. Beat the whipping cream, and then combine with butter mixture.</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh99kUJectP9Wtia_q5au5j0d57ol-07mbWwfx-7YQpS4yDt5EvRLATlc6V3E2zm1YGmtWQxExazRNQ5Uo8EDzuMOZ7DUle-c9lb-ck2QuAT2ODpnNf4LpAmp2MpqcklKEMvQ4nM3mKEA57/s1600/IMG_1375.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh99kUJectP9Wtia_q5au5j0d57ol-07mbWwfx-7YQpS4yDt5EvRLATlc6V3E2zm1YGmtWQxExazRNQ5Uo8EDzuMOZ7DUle-c9lb-ck2QuAT2ODpnNf4LpAmp2MpqcklKEMvQ4nM3mKEA57/s320/IMG_1375.JPG" /></a>Now that they're nice and mushy, and have cooled a bit, you continue to deconstruct them by slicing them into itty bitty slivers. (yes, fruit by dried fruit)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: #0b5394; color: #6aa84f;">*Note:</span> Watch your fingers! They're hotter than they look. We put them onto plates a scoop at a time to let them cool as we slice...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Once you're done slicing, in a large bowl, add the cream and dried fruit and mix until they're well combined. It should look like this:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH8Nxuk_e28cCcOdlNkHud_g_J2blZkK6Oaw2EKaSmnzJNlfFerbEq-aS_8Iwmq5ejaWk8ujsliJET4BiSSOS9wDk7g5HUSHMwjqyN0i2euYPMWTxIwZa4nJcWFoE9ZFBYfh_nXu_yQ9an/s1600/IMG_1379.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH8Nxuk_e28cCcOdlNkHud_g_J2blZkK6Oaw2EKaSmnzJNlfFerbEq-aS_8Iwmq5ejaWk8ujsliJET4BiSSOS9wDk7g5HUSHMwjqyN0i2euYPMWTxIwZa4nJcWFoE9ZFBYfh_nXu_yQ9an/s320/IMG_1379.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Looks better doesn't it? Taste it, go ahead...I bet you're hungry by now...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">Prepare your springform pan by taping it firmly onto your serving dish. Now it's time to layer your cake so get your social tea biscuits ready. Layer the cream and cookies alternately starting and ending with cream . Each layer of cream must be covered completely with biscuits! So this means you have to break your cookies into little bits to fill up all your edges, like this:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCwFkp8zjDZlaj_2-GKqS7jmeFGUj60v4WjBOfwHnHwcLc1IgszRJGxwcc5unSgHykVJaojph-rzDtgZVGEv1AdICA2D2bj40PWVpvbHW69Uj0ISFKNFFxhq3vOATjW_uORlEtjo1chUHT/s1600/IMG_1376.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCwFkp8zjDZlaj_2-GKqS7jmeFGUj60v4WjBOfwHnHwcLc1IgszRJGxwcc5unSgHykVJaojph-rzDtgZVGEv1AdICA2D2bj40PWVpvbHW69Uj0ISFKNFFxhq3vOATjW_uORlEtjo1chUHT/s320/IMG_1376.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrWbgYotioHjiW91Q09g3Ng19GKVxL5PDwe1LtODoVEJPrsH2z-qK7YAePwgSuKpBzpQhj5F4ZmP6WXRBfROgsrDf6CuFWnYygUGahLGhQW3WC50oDxxq7CwsFWfkAWCuax62YvjF625Yl/s1600/IMG_1381.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrWbgYotioHjiW91Q09g3Ng19GKVxL5PDwe1LtODoVEJPrsH2z-qK7YAePwgSuKpBzpQhj5F4ZmP6WXRBfROgsrDf6CuFWnYygUGahLGhQW3WC50oDxxq7CwsFWfkAWCuax62YvjF625Yl/s320/IMG_1381.JPG" /></a></div><br />
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</div>Continue the process until you've reached the top of your pan, make sure you end off with a layer of cream.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqB0kgnv4aWsvK_l8MXE1ULX28c99MeWCv4FlEF_QWUOtfvPKYSlCfHzXpclDu1vFMdQG4JYtaicz5tq5G4vwFxOrhyNlX4OwxU5vYkWSBsSo5FzNwtCmGh6-LbMROcX9uotcL0zxDrTpu/s1600/IMG_1383.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqB0kgnv4aWsvK_l8MXE1ULX28c99MeWCv4FlEF_QWUOtfvPKYSlCfHzXpclDu1vFMdQG4JYtaicz5tq5G4vwFxOrhyNlX4OwxU5vYkWSBsSo5FzNwtCmGh6-LbMROcX9uotcL0zxDrTpu/s320/IMG_1383.JPG" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">Take your left over tea biscuits and smashed them up with a rolling pin. Spread the crumbs (very generously) on the top of the cake and press them down to form a crust. </div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7yueREjh5EWJW8nY0EHTKXHTonkRcTpYOwu5a7lKYweVFRJC765hjN595ba1b_8ZybLRSthbPm5psef4jjgqh7LW3sJNAvd62Vp6YM3M2R9o-v0WSQTBgfj4OzJ2q5MyLSSzNXSoHw81a/s1600/IMG_1388.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7yueREjh5EWJW8nY0EHTKXHTonkRcTpYOwu5a7lKYweVFRJC765hjN595ba1b_8ZybLRSthbPm5psef4jjgqh7LW3sJNAvd62Vp6YM3M2R9o-v0WSQTBgfj4OzJ2q5MyLSSzNXSoHw81a/s320/IMG_1388.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrczZ5pixM1pJwf4-GOXVReD-osiiN4UJziqCW4gKluHEN8lKQWc7q1aDTlMqC2V7KAXXCSS5fvdhBvMNDq20ERLbgPfexEkbdNVbZd4HDGjgg0jMVQlqHVQkLZkw9jrmN52sZ9SyKIeSD/s1600/IMG_1387.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrczZ5pixM1pJwf4-GOXVReD-osiiN4UJziqCW4gKluHEN8lKQWc7q1aDTlMqC2V7KAXXCSS5fvdhBvMNDq20ERLbgPfexEkbdNVbZd4HDGjgg0jMVQlqHVQkLZkw9jrmN52sZ9SyKIeSD/s320/IMG_1387.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
You're done for day one. Now put the cake, and yourself, away to sleep in the fridge. (Well, <em>you</em> don't have to sleep in the fridge, unless that's your thing. Personally I'm thin-blooded so I prefer my quilt covered bed)<br />
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Once the sun is up on tomorrow and your cake is all set, it's time for the fun part: decorating. Toast your silvered almonds in the oven at 350 for approximately 10 minutes. Make sure they have adequately cooled down before you begin your work. Sit down for this part, it takes a while.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ5dFAAoW-NeYQGDw2UaktOsC1NUMW6Kf7tKy1t0EgopqdK413k3PLUTmUUEIflQBq__98OO6NxA9crtNUP_vvie_CAveshrrfdwesKHSouirnHazSgnkTNeVV5kos44XrbpkguADzNNXG/s1600/IMG_1397.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ5dFAAoW-NeYQGDw2UaktOsC1NUMW6Kf7tKy1t0EgopqdK413k3PLUTmUUEIflQBq__98OO6NxA9crtNUP_vvie_CAveshrrfdwesKHSouirnHazSgnkTNeVV5kos44XrbpkguADzNNXG/s320/IMG_1397.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">First, gently seperate the spring form pan and the cake leaving just the cake on the serving platter.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Basically what you need to do is cover all the sides of the cake with a wall of almonds. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzgVsLrV3gNa-8iMPtQtcerENA-KplU_lx91oeXi1XNNudJ5limx3YnE56xufKHoJ6uhacQW7DCsnROfi15Ka8v1OzUNwCBEZxmqZO71nUeOEzipXgTgGKIZRKUVZ-ovPqbs80WQhguES1/s1600/IMG_1395.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzgVsLrV3gNa-8iMPtQtcerENA-KplU_lx91oeXi1XNNudJ5limx3YnE56xufKHoJ6uhacQW7DCsnROfi15Ka8v1OzUNwCBEZxmqZO71nUeOEzipXgTgGKIZRKUVZ-ovPqbs80WQhguES1/s320/IMG_1395.JPG" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRLmuILYeIVvXQFpbBa1EU6yhdWgGMc3ExjgosUnzFosJNm9OaGkoEic8vOQSVgUKVoGWtgrk93tHkRBcmBzWa_5cKP1MD-AEIaDE9NioCji-rZ4BJY-1T5h_u0p6R1ninY4E33toIpcU2/s1600/IMG_1409.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRLmuILYeIVvXQFpbBa1EU6yhdWgGMc3ExjgosUnzFosJNm9OaGkoEic8vOQSVgUKVoGWtgrk93tHkRBcmBzWa_5cKP1MD-AEIaDE9NioCji-rZ4BJY-1T5h_u0p6R1ninY4E33toIpcU2/s320/IMG_1409.JPG" width="320" /></a>You should place them as close together as possible in horizontal lines trying to leave as little amount of gaps as possible. It sounds easy, and it is, but quick it is not and fun you will not have...</div><br />
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Once you think you're finished, you're not. You musn't forget about the finishing touch...the top of the cake. This you decorate with your reserved prunes and apricots. The look we're going for here is dried-fruit-flowers. You're going to slice the apricots into slivers (yes, again) to resemble petals and cut the prunes into chunks to resemble the flower centres. <br />
<img border="0" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfHP2rtO3IECfjfgWwJ1oPg1DHFaTHcYXwMT-SirmXlrLXBHhtLendH8FmhtWLJw6-XE1OM7ND6eK0QxyREhzHojnzEt8qD3sIaB8fdZlWaoZmQH5FizFBhJpfhME2ikBkNP4Sw3ZCtzmu/s320/IMG_1413.JPG" /> <br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Here's where you get to be creative. Decorate however you'd like. You can make full flowers if you want, but my mom and I were feeling something a little different last night so we decided to do halfsies instead. This I promise, is the final step, so once you're done this the cake is complete! You should let everything sit for a little while before serving so it's best to do this the night before your event. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKJZQA_nAPhpkULk7YTXwXqZPAYmTo5whjqPMdMA8cguWI7vD5RMQ5pKIXcQjrCQi3LKK1maAEhgmBzHM_sCLLtOetVH4Ht7JAm0B5crlRs75zWD9L_bn8IgruU_adYh_W_oinD39X9pdj/s1600/IMG_1416.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKJZQA_nAPhpkULk7YTXwXqZPAYmTo5whjqPMdMA8cguWI7vD5RMQ5pKIXcQjrCQi3LKK1maAEhgmBzHM_sCLLtOetVH4Ht7JAm0B5crlRs75zWD9L_bn8IgruU_adYh_W_oinD39X9pdj/s320/IMG_1416.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5p_ej1vLCJaUeNprzKCDTR14hF2VyP_d1fbuwmO6cabgvXN8kLFcvD8rtulkjAgVSebMrPi6XcbyzUM42O9nBc1UjXeH4ZstKpPqByNOaOI59faaXRBbBYUzeUTDLhemQpTb31oicr7ZI/s1600/IMG_1415.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5p_ej1vLCJaUeNprzKCDTR14hF2VyP_d1fbuwmO6cabgvXN8kLFcvD8rtulkjAgVSebMrPi6XcbyzUM42O9nBc1UjXeH4ZstKpPqByNOaOI59faaXRBbBYUzeUTDLhemQpTb31oicr7ZI/s320/IMG_1415.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">And VOILA! You're done! Two days and several hours later. You will definitely enjoy this one, and don't even feel guilty about the calories, you burned off half of them in the process already!</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">P.S. If you ever have or had the pleasure of being at a Lithuanian function and been shocked at how obliterated the host usually is the by the time the last guest <em>arrives</em>, now you know why! </div>femme fraichehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11900939969288086288noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3350258473847438337.post-30789461706087964082010-06-30T14:33:00.000-07:002010-07-02T07:21:27.932-07:00I think I died and went to sausage heaven...<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">My lifestyle is definitely not conducive to staying immobile for long periods of time. Hence my part-time job as a waitress, my addiction to working out and my life-long desire to give up my car and move to the Amalfi coast where a trek up and down 10 flights of stairs are a part of each and every outing from your house. My mom, always sympathetic to this (and not a fan of putting up with my crankiness when I'm stuck indoors for too long), allowed me a short adventure today as I nurse my swollen face thanks to my wisdom teeth removal yesterday...of my favorite kind...a food-filled trip to Starsky's. Starsky's is an Eastern European grocery store located in Mississauga. Since my nickname growing up among my family members was always the Polish Princess (and the Pasta Queen...as if they even fit together?), it was like going back to the motherland for me. It was my second time visiting the store and this time was somewhat more painful. With my stomach rumbling for lunch, I slowly perused the deli, cheese and bakery counters, unable to pick up any of the numerous samples due to my inability to chew. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIRdP0gbwKCi35YPUYIw-Rrb8uzmbdKjMkELXKIPihKdQNEXa4f9iYwYLOyZtXhY72H1NAShRmQdw3LHz15O2AyaDk9srqMF2gxKs256_NivgeGh2LCTK1ZTy7VFIeU6uOXadfrVGAhEXy/s1600/IMG00068-20100630-1218.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="cssfloat: left; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ru="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIRdP0gbwKCi35YPUYIw-Rrb8uzmbdKjMkELXKIPihKdQNEXa4f9iYwYLOyZtXhY72H1NAShRmQdw3LHz15O2AyaDk9srqMF2gxKs256_NivgeGh2LCTK1ZTy7VFIeU6uOXadfrVGAhEXy/s320/IMG00068-20100630-1218.jpg" /></a></div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I whipped out my little Canon, excited to document my trip, only to be greeted by the dreaded "Change battery pack" notice as soon as I turned it on. Fortunately, I had my trusty Blackberry with me...so I got to take some half-decent shots...until that little bugger died too:(...</div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Pickles and pickles and....pickles?...oh my! Yes, in true Eastern European fashion, there was a whole aisle dedicated to anything and everything pickled. They even had a jar of Grandma's Salad!! And can you guess what the <span style="background-color: white;">ingredient</span> list was on that one? If you guessed pickled cabbage and beets, you win the prize!</div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVBwtBoHggijuw8ErIbj6e61SaWmV81euS5uOfV_uEFuvqSe4GJsv3pkXy2I56AnYQ2Alg778nTXuBj5-NI9qTImQycsMCQ4j6YqtlqguU8DAwCc6S8nxUj45NPgtWipoQjUGTQgCgGJBi/s1600/IMG00069-20100630-1222.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ru="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVBwtBoHggijuw8ErIbj6e61SaWmV81euS5uOfV_uEFuvqSe4GJsv3pkXy2I56AnYQ2Alg778nTXuBj5-NI9qTImQycsMCQ4j6YqtlqguU8DAwCc6S8nxUj45NPgtWipoQjUGTQgCgGJBi/s320/IMG00069-20100630-1222.jpg" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">My mother, elated and just as excited as a "kiddy in a candy store" (those were her words, actually), debated on which type of pickled beets to take home...deciding on the shredded beet root with horseradish (for a kick). She wasn't too happy with the end result of her purchase...but that's a problem I will be more than happy to take care of for her.</div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">We were on a mission, however, so spent little time in the aisles and most of our trip at the pride and joy of Starsky's: The Sausage Counter. Well, it wasn't just comprised of sausage, I have to admit, there was cheese and regular deli meats, too but the sausage counter was definitely where it was at. I actually had to battle through quite a few elbows to get a shot of it. (I'd also like to note that this was on a regular Wednesday afternoon at around 12:30pm....kudos to those who brave this place on a Saturday)</div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqwgQsmPlfeoFzOe_WF2gIdpnHIdouVA1IOgB8q9m16wPo4BgcOCMEysVB-xLSR0trC0N2p7WEM5DF0TFz6qShYkK03Xu8v3jQY2v_SlSsf-c71M6VL-_4rBThMhRKYl3s1AlVsI0ne62a/s1600/IMG00093-20100630-1236.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ru="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqwgQsmPlfeoFzOe_WF2gIdpnHIdouVA1IOgB8q9m16wPo4BgcOCMEysVB-xLSR0trC0N2p7WEM5DF0TFz6qShYkK03Xu8v3jQY2v_SlSsf-c71M6VL-_4rBThMhRKYl3s1AlVsI0ne62a/s320/IMG00093-20100630-1236.jpg" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">This is only a small portion of what Starky's offers by way of sausages...(and yes, those are the forbidden tempting samples you see on top of the counter). I actually couldn't get in to take shots of all of them, but they also had a variety of dried and vacuum-sacked sausages at the end of pretty much every aisle gondola. </div></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">I've never visited an Eastern European country, but this reminded me of all the meat and cheese shops in Italy. Displays are not just limited to behind the glass cases, but hung and shelved in every square inch of space available. Not sure about you, but it definitely adds to my appetite.</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir1iVjdgLKrKnwjl2D3B-nzvK2kLTg8yCkgIuOSmGcHzpNbUzUZaeIdPF8jZSvLCPh8jk0l0f5y3E18aRQVUBOpV-et__nexMvGowX2b02LDWfP6SJaXu7Y9XUZeRg5J5Q7VhA-rIBDkrw/s1600/IMG00079-20100630-1226.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ru="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir1iVjdgLKrKnwjl2D3B-nzvK2kLTg8yCkgIuOSmGcHzpNbUzUZaeIdPF8jZSvLCPh8jk0l0f5y3E18aRQVUBOpV-et__nexMvGowX2b02LDWfP6SJaXu7Y9XUZeRg5J5Q7VhA-rIBDkrw/s320/IMG00079-20100630-1226.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHPu4Y7P3JoZPKrOaqgjd_OxR6QnPRaS5SyhGaJSdWvMl8Ded4TxfVoxY7nQQxqt99a8YhNhCmwFZrD-gl4tYTe2eaNfEmoM4O3gf0Eulo5utMWFCkNafmNxVLEp_51MIRe8EOTirmX8Nj/s1600/IMG00075-20100630-1225.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ru="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHPu4Y7P3JoZPKrOaqgjd_OxR6QnPRaS5SyhGaJSdWvMl8Ded4TxfVoxY7nQQxqt99a8YhNhCmwFZrD-gl4tYTe2eaNfEmoM4O3gf0Eulo5utMWFCkNafmNxVLEp_51MIRe8EOTirmX8Nj/s320/IMG00075-20100630-1225.jpg" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnf2FLCpoOEi-nPCnFJAi6dvLnqoay9euXQoMYna4zsDf-9rIftJhZBeicYdbvTP-M2M0escssxXhHshC195fGCo0sTSWACDwObGp2kQKT0CSM34IztdOnaKHSe_IWFWozX8unLnKmr0oF/s1600/IMG00080-20100630-1226.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ru="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnf2FLCpoOEi-nPCnFJAi6dvLnqoay9euXQoMYna4zsDf-9rIftJhZBeicYdbvTP-M2M0escssxXhHshC195fGCo0sTSWACDwObGp2kQKT0CSM34IztdOnaKHSe_IWFWozX8unLnKmr0oF/s320/IMG00080-20100630-1226.jpg" /></a>This lady made me laugh: a) why grab a toothpick if you're going to pick the meat with your hands? b) clearly blatantly disregarding the signs posted everywhere asking customers to "use a new toothpick with every sample they take'. Regardless, I was pretty jealous of her...</div></div></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirw2Osa2GwY2N_ZaVBCyrbChPGl5Fb6GWbtr4KXpsW4RFmBqD3R3wqE_Ai2nIKpEc4i_j9BmybFJJ1K8Zx0Z682Ac9cuzrkjUMgn77sfGPF5QGAbZoSbKy1ztsLeUhBSsGOawg7vAmc8pZ/s1600/IMG00083-20100630-1228.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ru="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirw2Osa2GwY2N_ZaVBCyrbChPGl5Fb6GWbtr4KXpsW4RFmBqD3R3wqE_Ai2nIKpEc4i_j9BmybFJJ1K8Zx0Z682Ac9cuzrkjUMgn77sfGPF5QGAbZoSbKy1ztsLeUhBSsGOawg7vAmc8pZ/s320/IMG00083-20100630-1228.jpg" /></a>Ahhh, this is what we came for. Tucked neatly beside the plethora of cheeses (I guess they group their items according to strength of smell), was the smoked fish section. We went home with fillets of smoked mackerel, rainbow trout, sea bass and white fish. (My mom is hosting a lunch on Friday for some Lithuanian relatives visiting from Chicago) Seeing this took me back to the days when I would walk in the door after school and get slapped in the face with the odour of fish courtesy of my dad's smoker in the backyard. I loathed it at the time, the look of the glossy-eyed dead little buggers, the smell that seeped into the walls (and my hair and clothes), the fact that I had to monitor it once my dad left for work...But there was something about those fish in that case that looked sub-par to me. I suddenly began to miss what I used to dread and found myself wishing I went on at least one of those fishing trips, helped make at least one catch and been a bit more eager to participate in a process my Dad enjoyed as much as he did...</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">I actually laughed when I saw this...Eastern Europeans, marinating in vodka!?...Why am I not surprised...</div><br />
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Obviously we had to hit up the salad bar...not the typical couscous, pasta and potato salad variety was offered, though. We went home with a big tub of creamy coleslaw (not as good as expected) and sauerkraut with wild mushrooms (which was amazing, even though I could only have a little bit as it acted as an immediate magnet to the back of my mouth).</div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRKlPiMhbEqi4hhdMh3RWQh0N_NBb4gBFBmx9GAWIlwvK_BkkKFfDLtsgz9auiB61YQebiCtPF2kDWnh4QwhylOp1zBNVX7lAW0jJpExhyTZgHmVGKLtTZ370WBTU9vcD8WQ4bCOeN20r9/s1600/IMG00084-20100630-1229.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ru="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRKlPiMhbEqi4hhdMh3RWQh0N_NBb4gBFBmx9GAWIlwvK_BkkKFfDLtsgz9auiB61YQebiCtPF2kDWnh4QwhylOp1zBNVX7lAW0jJpExhyTZgHmVGKLtTZ370WBTU9vcD8WQ4bCOeN20r9/s320/IMG00084-20100630-1229.jpg" /></a>Any food adventure is not complete without a trip to the sweet boutique. The language barrier continued to plague me in this section (did I mention that almost every label in the store is written in Polish, or some other foreign language, with translations into English sparse). We did not splurge on any desserts (we plan on making one of our own) but I thought I'd show you the type of selection available. Unfortunately, I have no idea what any of these words mean, but that doesn't mean they didn't look or smell incredible...</div></div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">My picture may not be clear enough, but the cakes I have pictured here are the Smietanikov Cake (top right), Napoleon Cake (top left), the Wiedenski Cheesecake (a Polish Viennese cheesecake made with either vanilla or chocolate creme) (bottom left) and the Sernik Brzoskwinia (a Polish peach cheesecake) (bottom right) </div></div></div><div align="center" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQmZux_DW-OWDK1ZIThrYXcB8p-6FUhgpW9H86yN4A57sfH7xzWL0_kvgIzFyEuQU6_Um5nQLX7JU2bMDo-6_qRADfZEpq8v-ksj9i5CrdTdK5OuG5yVUw7Xb1OAtvCGDU101MtmuKoLQh/s1600/IMG00086-20100630-1231.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: right; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" ru="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQmZux_DW-OWDK1ZIThrYXcB8p-6FUhgpW9H86yN4A57sfH7xzWL0_kvgIzFyEuQU6_Um5nQLX7JU2bMDo-6_qRADfZEpq8v-ksj9i5CrdTdK5OuG5yVUw7Xb1OAtvCGDU101MtmuKoLQh/s320/IMG00086-20100630-1231.jpg" width="320" /></a>The "Napoleon" cake was somewhat familiar to me. Lithuanians call it 'Napoleonas': a torte painstakingly made by stacking individually baked layers of pastry and cream. (Might I add that my Mociute is a master at this one...)</div></div></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjggaJIiVh6PzPeMlvbVITsBPn0KjRcbc35OcPaTs7gFRkYe64p8whgixdIhXo0tc8cJ5bcSva9QVJHcdjp5UA7vCzO00DlwIJTLicQ9XVlWvsAHsjIZXiTFlPR127O3K9okYpP_Re4inGK/s1600/tortas-Napoleonas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ru="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjggaJIiVh6PzPeMlvbVITsBPn0KjRcbc35OcPaTs7gFRkYe64p8whgixdIhXo0tc8cJ5bcSva9QVJHcdjp5UA7vCzO00DlwIJTLicQ9XVlWvsAHsjIZXiTFlPR127O3K9okYpP_Re4inGK/s320/tortas-Napoleonas.jpg" /></a><span style="color: white;"></span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfOJDwCbT-BIdTouhX4SdI23TSSqaobUWC_yswdyftx7t3SJ2488PO384I6gc3yG9vPaoLuXE8koFAibfOBvjef3vxnoU1llOR8hk6eBtZ9Fo_vosLWqprcaq2oG5OR6f-yG-RwuL96N2p/s1600/IMG00087-20100630-1232.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ru="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfOJDwCbT-BIdTouhX4SdI23TSSqaobUWC_yswdyftx7t3SJ2488PO384I6gc3yG9vPaoLuXE8koFAibfOBvjef3vxnoU1llOR8hk6eBtZ9Fo_vosLWqprcaq2oG5OR6f-yG-RwuL96N2p/s320/IMG00087-20100630-1232.jpg" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
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</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">These smelt amazing! Traditional polish doughnuts..filled with "budyn" a Polish custard. Reminded me of the famous Bombe from Terracina..mmm..my waistline is thanking my face for being so swollen right now, that's for sure.</div><br />
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I ended my visit with a trip to the soup aisle, hoping I could find something exotic that would spice up my otherwise bland diet right now. Sadly, my mission failed. Oh, if only I spoke Polish as well as the folks at Knorr do...</div></div></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqiL1m6RdyHX9SbmtDrYImwlEUejVL7Fe3xK9V06zViItFjScYLhk0oBgSAR7TzrL4rK1ZBqssrcaQOJJIYMIBB_JMhV4Z0BJheFsJMG9wbZc_ClsbFghPD6WTjwathQPbrTYFB4rHT58E/s1600/IMG00100-20100630-1248.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ru="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqiL1m6RdyHX9SbmtDrYImwlEUejVL7Fe3xK9V06zViItFjScYLhk0oBgSAR7TzrL4rK1ZBqssrcaQOJJIYMIBB_JMhV4Z0BJheFsJMG9wbZc_ClsbFghPD6WTjwathQPbrTYFB4rHT58E/s320/IMG00100-20100630-1248.jpg" /></a></div>femme fraichehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11900939969288086288noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3350258473847438337.post-7281114438195716072010-06-28T08:57:00.000-07:002010-07-03T03:42:06.344-07:00Le Ricette degli Nonni<div class="separator" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" ru="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvjJteHIBnENEayXOHvfdlkm57OrTGIhZzujA50_5eH73LrE8BVgC5Tf1N4XuWXIejhDEWLJZs25bAAscB5OxMXRwqv4nF0y1oHFhDrmoat4t1Zgffme1469j5DZNlr4l8wOdpewrmPJs6/s320/couple,happy-8915a0aff4b415658ae002b8c7ecc292_m.jpg" /></div><br />
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As much as it is my ultimate goal/dream in life to live in Europe (at least for part of the year), I have to admit that Canada is a wonderful place. And what makes it most wonderful, in my opinion, is the fact that the majority of its citizens are comprised of either 1st or 2nd generation immigrants from all over the world. Being the curious person that I am, (I was once told by my second grade elementary school teacher that I am too curious and that I always have my "ears perked up like a little puppy dog"...I'll never forget that), the fact that our nation is a compilation of diverse cultures is perfect for me, allowing my culinary queries to be satisfied both easily and authentically. Fortunately, I am only second generation, and, being young, I have the privilege of being surrounded by many first generation-ers who have played such an important role in my growing appreciation for food and tradition. I, like so many others, have been blessed with the key to the past: I have participated in the rituals, I have been told and re-told the stories of home, I have ate the food of my ancestors, I have watched the magicians recreate the dishes with ease, I have access to their secrets...how will I honour this privilege? When the population shifts from being comprised of both immigrants and their offspring, to merely their offspring, how will we keep the tradition alive? I have decided to fulfill my duty with the tools I know how to use best; I will contribute to my past by fusing it with my present: through technology. <br />
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Le Ricette degli Nonni will be a multi-part series to my blog. In it, I will profile our grandparents, parents, aunts and uncles, godparents, family friends, paesans...you get the point...anyone whose citizenship in this country is "permanent resident" (or sometimes not even, eek!), and get the inside scoop on their take on tradition. Obviously the focus here is on food, but it will not merely focus on recipes. It will be all-encompassing--how food is important to their culture, to their families, to their history. Although the name may be deceiving, my research will not be restricted to people of the Italian heritage, (I just thought it had a nice ring to it), but will include memories of people from all over the world. <br />
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So prepare for a trip into the past, guided by the hands of our ancestors. Join me in their kitchens, as I uncover the secrets kept under the table and ensure that the past is not forgotten when they are gone, but it continues to live on in our hearts and on our plates.femme fraichehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11900939969288086288noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3350258473847438337.post-36821102350761351292010-06-24T07:29:00.000-07:002010-06-27T15:30:53.809-07:00Šaltibarščiai-Lithuanian Summer Soup<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieGduV77W1Aq83im2n0wsCmUB6OhyU0z0BT1s-ezPSBUqxUYdFQKuFo-8luK3a60Zwu8uCDFQ23hUfolnk8Kq3vIERJfrQ1NUb6nhTL51JTiVLuwMfJh2aWEIOb-pFn1ua1FDLuWhLxYCG/s1600/IMG_1362.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ru="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieGduV77W1Aq83im2n0wsCmUB6OhyU0z0BT1s-ezPSBUqxUYdFQKuFo-8luK3a60Zwu8uCDFQ23hUfolnk8Kq3vIERJfrQ1NUb6nhTL51JTiVLuwMfJh2aWEIOb-pFn1ua1FDLuWhLxYCG/s320/IMG_1362.JPG" /></a></div><br />
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It's pretty obvious that I am quite biased to Italian cuisine. And by pretty obvious I mean I'm pretty sure I've stated it more than once, or five times for that matter. The simplicity of dishes like pizza and pasta make them hard for anybody to dislike. Especially children. If I kept a food diary growing up and someone went back and read up on my normal culinary routines, they would automatically assume I came from a strictly Italian household (of course, one that has been influenced also by being living in North America). But this is not the case. On the contrary, my mother's maiden name does not end in a vowel, she is actually a Zenkevicius, of Lithuanian decent. <br />
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Like every mother that comes to my mind, my mom pushed her foodie preferences aside in order to please her husband and his obsession with having a home-cooked, mama-styled, Italian meal on a daily basis. She took lessons from the queen of my father's heart (and stomach) herself (my Nonna), and instead only indulged in her own Lithuanian comfort foods on visits to her parents' house or holiday celebrations hosted by her siblings. Even special occasions held at our house featured Italian cuisine only, regardless of the heritage of our guests. As children, we followed suit with my dad, preferring an Italian meal and pushing away our plates while pursing our lips at the thought of one of those oddly-named, weird coloured dishes my Mociute (grandmother in Lithuanian) would prepare.<br />
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However, with age usually comes an increased openness to experimentation with food. So when my mom decided to make her favorite "pink soup" the other day, I did not cringe at the thought, but instead decided to indulge with her. I wasn't surprised that I was pleased, as the soup was made up of some of my favorite ingredients. Besides, what can be more refreshing than the idea of a hearty, yet cool, soup on a humid summer's day?<br />
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I posted the recipe for those who love to experiment in international cooking and eating as much I do...<br />
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(Sorry daddio, I can almost see you shaking your head in disappointment in my mind)<br />
2 cans sliced beets <br />
2 hard boiled and chopped eggs<br />
1 English cucumber, thinly sliced and quatered<br />
1 small bunch green onions, chopped<br />
1 quart buttermilk<br />
salt and pepper to taste<br />
dill (optional)<br />
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Cut all beet slices into even thinner slivers, and, adding the juice from the beets, combine all the ingredients together. If soup is too thick, you can thin it with milk (butter or regular). Stir well and refrigerate. Stir contents thouroughly before each serving to blend. Serves 2-3 people, several times. Traditonally this cold summer soup is served with warm boiled potatoes on the side.femme fraichehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11900939969288086288noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3350258473847438337.post-15461849378049502862010-06-23T04:01:00.000-07:002010-06-23T04:01:27.514-07:00Memories of Love, Food, Travel...Lately, my literary interests have led me into the world of memoirs-- typically of chefs, food writers, etc-- most likely due to my reality TV obsession. My last pick was a recomendation: Heat by Bill Buford. When I started reading, I thought it was going to be the result of a research project on Mario Batali, however I ended up being pleasantly surprised. The book not only traced the success of Batali through his mentors, but ended up taking me on a much enjoyed culinary trip through small-town Italy. Buford essentially retraces Mario's learning process by seeking out and working alongside all those people who made him into the Iron Chef master he is today. The book describes, in-depth, secrets to making the perfect pasta right down to choosing the perfect egg, conquering both beef and pork, learning how to read cook temps on meat through merely your sense of touch and smell, all the way down to dicing cucumber properly, without an inch of it going to waste. The book was a guilty pleasure for me, giving me an insiders look into the part of culture I love the most (food) from the culture I secretly favour (Italian). <br />
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Next I plan to replace my starchy cravings with sugar dreams with The Sweet Life in Paris by David Lebowitz. Ahhh Paris...another city that holds a special place in both my foodie and romantic heart. Then I plan to take on the muli-volumed Oishinbo, the manga of Japanese cuisine...<br />
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I will discover the world, one memoir at a time.<br />
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PS--maybe I'm just a little too Ital-proud, but I totally believe there had to be some truth in the Caterina di Medici legend...did France's culinary success come through their young Italy queen? You decide...femme fraichehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11900939969288086288noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3350258473847438337.post-36327633870389291202010-06-22T04:32:00.000-07:002010-06-22T04:55:12.331-07:001000 Tastes of TorontoI was fortunate enough to make it out to one of Luminato's closing events this weekend. On Saturday and Sunday, a bunch of Toronto's best restos, chefs, catering companies and cooking schools lined up along Queen's Park to offer samples of some of their great gourmet dishes at the price of just $5 a pop. Check out my coverage of the event on spotlightTO:<br />
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<a href="http://www.spotlighttoronto.com/site/index.php/event-luminato1000tastes2010.html">http://www.spotlighttoronto.com/site/index.php/event-luminato1000tastes2010.html</a>femme fraichehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11900939969288086288noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3350258473847438337.post-31433576642399187732010-06-22T04:24:00.000-07:002010-06-22T04:52:16.238-07:00Gooey? Peanut Butter and Nutella Brownies...Yesterday, after making it home earlier from work than expected (yipee), I decided to FINALLY make my mom those gooey peanut butter and nutella brownies I promised I would make her for her birthday...which was on Friday. Whatever, don't judge me, the only reason why I couldn't get it done is because I was busy making her a storybook..ya, sweet, I know, so I'm excused for the late dessert now, right?<br />
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So I thought I was prepared--ingredient wise that is--I had the nutella, the brand new giant PB jar (and yes, Mel this is the first time we've had to buy a new one since you left, and no the last jar isn't even quite finished yet), the full carton of eggs and the butter. But as I got to work I realized, shit, 3/4 cups of cocoa? I only have the equivalent of one teaspoon. But hot chocolate is just the American way of saying cocoa anyways right?....meeehhh, not quite.<br />
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I'm a proud baker and my experiments in the 9x13 are usually a success...but last night something went horribly wrong. Despite having been baked for way longer than the suggested 15 minutes, the brownies were no where close to done. I pulled them out anyways, since the edges looked crusty and borderline overdone, even though the whole middle of the cake wobbled like jello as I set it on the counter. So it turns out, Tim Horton's hot chocolate is not quite the suitable replacement for Fry's Cocoa...as I later learned from my mom/ baking mentor. Fry's, being unsweetened, acts somewhat like a flour, whereas the hot chocolate already has sugar added...the reason that prevented my brownies for setting.<br />
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But fret not, my sweet friends...whether it be solid, slightly gooey, or completely runny, there is no way to serve peanut butter and nutella that is not deliciously indulgent. So what did I learn from this experience? Hot chocolate=not a baking substitute for brownies, however, may be the secret ingredient for very tasty molten cakes!<br />
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Check out the photos on flickr--->femme fraichehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11900939969288086288noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3350258473847438337.post-85107487266031358642010-05-23T16:02:00.000-07:002010-05-24T04:58:43.461-07:00Modern Japanese in Sushi Suburbia: Yang's Teppanyaki & SushiIt was inevitable, we all knew it was coming. All-you-can eat sushi joints of poor service and sloppy maki rolls would do for a lunch-time craving or a lazy Friday night binge. But what about the family get-togethers or friendly reunions that you want to celebrate local, but in a venue that makes the night feel as special as it should? And what if you're tired of grilled calamari followed by penne alla vodka? Yang's seems to be the perfect fit for those who want to take a culinary globe trot to Japan, sans traffic jam and overpriced sake. I hadn't been to Yang's since the Grand Opening sign was up a few years ago and being back made me reminisce of my first experience there (as a merely budding foodista) and how the clean lines and black and white decor reminded me of what trendy restaurants should look like in a big city. (Who am I kidding, I felt like Carrie Bradshaw that day minus the fact that I was too minor to enjoy a Manhattan with my mango rolls). Although the Tuesday night crowd was less than bumping, the atmosphere automatically made me categorize Yang's in a separate class from the Akita's and Makimono's of the GTA--I would consider it more on track of being a Ki of the north. That comparison is to be taken lightly, mind you, especially when it comes to menu selection where it does not come close to rivalry in originality. The menu does offer all the standards you would expect from any sushi joint, with a few added bonuses. In fact, one of the three leather-bound menus placed in front of me offered two prix fixe specials featuring Kobe beef, jumbo shrimps, black cod and 2lbs live lobster. Not to mention the teppanyaki bar located in the back rooms of the restaurant and the fresh oysters to boot. Another leather bound menu especially excited me with a selection of sake infused martinis and a decently varied choice of wine. I ordered a sushi appetizer plate that came with 3 pieces of sushi (salmon, shrimp and tuna) and 3 avocado rolls and 3 salmon rolls along with a small wakame(seaweed) salad. Everything seemed fresh and flavourful--not to be taken for granted in an area loaded with all-you-can eats. Dining partner Mel had the nabe udon which was served in a traditional nabe or metal pot. Laura started off with the salmon pizza. It was one of the biggest sushi pizzas I had ever seen and was made beautifully (in comparison to the heaps of fried rice patty and scattered fish pieces I am usually served) She also had the sushi and sashimi combo: a well priced platter with 8 pieces of sashimi, 5 pieces sushi and 4 large soft-shell crab rolls, miso soup and wakame salad. The portions left us all satisfied: no need to over-order in fear of not being full enough just to have to over-stuff yourself to avoid extra surcharges for leaving food behind. (A mistake I commonly make at all-you-can-eats) The service was better than what I usually expect from a sushi restaurant--attentive when necessary but not exactly engaging or personal. The ingredients tasted fresh and the presentation gave credit to the masters behind the glass bar. A return back to Yang's will occur much sooner than it did this time, next with an emptier stomach to experience the market fresh oysters and teppanyaki marinated black cod dinner that caught my eye. Check out the photos I posted on flicker, all courtesy of Laura Conte. Thanks for the great work Laura!!femme fraichehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11900939969288086288noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3350258473847438337.post-91510852657492498222010-05-15T13:42:00.000-07:002010-05-23T16:37:11.592-07:00Home may be where the heart is...but who says he can't have a vacation cottage?: Vecchio FrakAfter a stressful day at work, serving strangers and refilling too many waters on the patio, I decided I needed a good hearty comfort-food meal. After growing up with an Italian background, in an Italian neighbourhood, comforting food doesn’t come to me in grilled cheese sandwiches or BBQ burgers, but in wood-oven thin crusted pizzas and fresh homemade pastas. You could understand why I felt the only suitable place to satisfy my cravings would be good ol' College St. With a traffic-less drive, a lucky parking spot and a wind-filled wander, we ended up at Vecchio Frak, where we were warmly greeted by a familiar-looking host. In true mia casa è tua casa fashion, we were welcome to seat ourselves at any spot we favoured. The restaurant was just the right amount of European-chic--it didn't make me feel under-dressed nor did it make me feel like I went through a time warp to the 80s. Unlike so many spots on College, the restaurant seemed to seat many without forcing you to rub elbows with other patrons. The interesting and lengthy drink list only triggered my indecisive tendencies, so I let the server (with the Italian accent--common among almost all the employees in this restaurant, and a weak spot for me) be my guide in beverage selection--and he read me all too well, sending me over a larger-than- life-sized version of my favourite cocktail: a pina colada. Antipastos definitely had us contemplating skipping entrees, but our decision not to was wise in the end. The perfectly flavoured bruschette miste was just soft enough (but not mushy) to keep the fresh toppings on the bread from becoming castaway victims to the plate. The tonno, olive e patate salad was not over dressed and the potatoes reminded me of the ones I used to cherish from the tavola calda at the Italian bakeries by my house. The Campolina pizza with mozzarella, truffle cream, mushrooms and eggplants was authentically rustic and thin--but not the thin that doesn’t go straight from dough to burnt. The truffle cream added that amazing flavour that only truffle can master and the eggplants were cooked just right, with the skin left on, but with not a hint of bitterness. The risotto alla pescatore was seasoned well and the rice was cooked perfectly al dente. Although the fish variety included much of the ocean, it seemed to be a little too al-dente itself. Our full stomachs forced us to pass on dessert. Instead we ended a pleasant evening with a Campari and soda and a Gaggia-made cappuccino. The simplicity of the experience made it ideal--friendly service, light and fresh fare in a favoured location. Added bonus? Discovering that the familiar host was a long-lost elementary school friend who just moved back to Canada after living in Italy for 8 years. Needless to say, my nostalgic cravings were more than thoroughly satisfied. A genuine offer to return by the staff will surely be accepted in the near future.<br />
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Check out my first food photo experience (eek) on my flickr account!femme fraichehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11900939969288086288noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3350258473847438337.post-34179008438066702222010-05-15T13:40:00.000-07:002010-05-23T16:38:53.854-07:00Get LostIf my past blogs haven’t made it obvious enough, I’m the type of person who finds myself most completely when I am nowhere to be found. I like to lose myself in my surroundings, whether they be scenery, literature, magazines, a conversation, or a movie. You’ll often find me ignoring my less-interesting guests at work in favour of a juicy conversation (usually about travel) with some of our regulars. As a moody Cancer, it’s not too unpredictable that my source of distraction changes quickly and often. I find I think most clearly when my mind is fuelled with interesting topics and captivating visions. Today I’m dedicating my blog to my favourite way to pass the time--playing hide and seek (with secret hopes of never being found) <br />
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Here’s a sneak peak to this week’s top-secret hiding spots: <br />
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<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7GSgMp9OvX6UV3lvdsH6-RNZyVMKgoomhmfkNfO1AKqz9a14XbHCReA-39EfGE1An0TDWtgoeocv1iQ6vkeCL2vNRUMWLcsMOWYnua8rwHHzilE4RGsoDzMSASvp6uSCapZpWH6Yb_jq0/s1600/forgotten-garden.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7GSgMp9OvX6UV3lvdsH6-RNZyVMKgoomhmfkNfO1AKqz9a14XbHCReA-39EfGE1An0TDWtgoeocv1iQ6vkeCL2vNRUMWLcsMOWYnua8rwHHzilE4RGsoDzMSASvp6uSCapZpWH6Yb_jq0/s200/forgotten-garden.jpg" width="132" wt="true" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><strong>The Forgotten Garden</strong> <em>by Kate Morton:</em> who ever said whimsical could only be found in the Fantasy section at Chapters? I’m not quite through this one yet, as I’m indulging slowly to savour the imagination-provoking text about mystery, fairy tales and knowing your true self. The constant change of scenery and time period keep you on your toes and keep my easily-distracted mind entertained thoroughly. The book takes place in the early 1900s, the 1970s and some-what present day (2005) following three different characters travelling between England and Australia in hopes of self-discovery. As a reader, I anxiously read to discover with them, all the while trying to unravel the mysteries of their pasts that slowly reveal themselves throughout the text. A book that never quite gives you all the answers but is always provoking questions--need I say more?</div><br />
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><strong>Food & Wine</strong>-<em>May 2010</em>: Nothing like a good gourmet food magazine to make you hungry. But for anyone whose been tempted enough to look past the salivating cover knows there’s much more to magazines like this one than just luxurious and strenuous recipes. Two articles in particular struck my attention in this month’s issue:</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
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<em>Red Wine & Vegetables: Friends or Foes,</em> by Ray Isle, profiles Californian vineyard owner and restaurateur Randall Grahm and his chef Charlie Parker and their tendency for (successful) odd wine pairings. Anyone who knows me, or has at least caught sight of me even once in a school cafeteria or work back-room knows I should be part-rabbit for how much I love fruits and veggies. Needless to say, I obviously took pleasure in reading how well his “spicy 2007 Bonny Doon Bien Nacido Syrah [one of my favourite varietals] matches beautifully with Parker’s warm-main course salad of young turnips with greens, black olives and hazelnuts”. The success is credited to the earthy properties of root veggies. How relieving it is to know I can have my cake and drink my red, too.<br />
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgORjqUe7xbFeRkHZ7RKB3jvm791t70jBYs3qRqSNIL_Rg9X0mDK_EYCpr8BZAlFGRtrwH6OtTchdp9Eb3GbLe0C3baxFNU82wc4uGyGcKvtfPB7WzA9etUrVeLHhYvs7qikGHm_X1d3FoC/s1600/201005-a-where-chefs-go-future.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgORjqUe7xbFeRkHZ7RKB3jvm791t70jBYs3qRqSNIL_Rg9X0mDK_EYCpr8BZAlFGRtrwH6OtTchdp9Eb3GbLe0C3baxFNU82wc4uGyGcKvtfPB7WzA9etUrVeLHhYvs7qikGHm_X1d3FoC/s320/201005-a-where-chefs-go-future.jpg" wt="true" /></a>Soup Nazis have more than just a bubbly big-haired Elaine to worry about nowadays. In <em>Where Chefs go to see the Future</em>, Anya von Bremzen talks about international chef congresses that are putting the concept of “secret ingredients” in the past by showcasing master chef’s creating complex dishes right before your (and the media’s) eyes. This article brought in stark contrast for me just how accessible cooking techniques have become for us--from the internet to the Food Network, it seems anyone can become an insta-Cordon Bleu graduate. This is something I defintely have taken granted of (with my search bar). But at second thought it kind of saddens me--will showing too much to too many take the magic out of cooking, discredit the talent in the creators?</div><br />
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Don’t forget to check out a tribute to the Great North (that means us, of course) in the travel secton (<em>A Superselective Guide to Canada’s Best Wine and Food</em>). Planning a back-packing venture any time soon? Let the go list be your guide when it comes to dinner restaurant choices and perfect wine pairings: <em>100 Best New Food and Drink Experiences</em>. Renovating? (or just planning your future dream kitchen as I often do), Ted Allen offers some expert tips for creating a space fit for a culinary king (or even the top chef master of your castle) in <em>Ted Allen’s Renovation Challenge</em>. <br />
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<strong>The Young Victoria</strong> -The beautiful backdrops of traditional English gardens and castles made this the perfect Sunday afternoon film for someone who plans to travel to London in the near future. The movie profiles the life of the legendary Queen Victoria and her successful reign despite a somewhat premature possession of the crown. An essential love story kept me glossy eyed and was made all the more delicious with some seriously wise casting choices. Her self-assured personality and determination for success made me thinking girl-power thoughts for the whole 105 minutes of the film, all the while making me re-think a second degree in English history. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNTuUA3UwWbJkunbDrfe2aNVwjkjdFCCrPAHXyJCxidqK4RSzerXz1K3A9JEHcIrlr4peyCcbvXOeEIgzbHxq05leEpobsTQ2-EK5wBwgb3-iFhpYboQr8ZmmkO5qt2HR5GNeLDREmvrSS/s1600/young_victoria_blunt_friend.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNTuUA3UwWbJkunbDrfe2aNVwjkjdFCCrPAHXyJCxidqK4RSzerXz1K3A9JEHcIrlr4peyCcbvXOeEIgzbHxq05leEpobsTQ2-EK5wBwgb3-iFhpYboQr8ZmmkO5qt2HR5GNeLDREmvrSS/s320/young_victoria_blunt_friend.jpg" wt="true" /></a></div><br />
<strong>Toronto Life-</strong> <em>June 2010</em><br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA3abKdwOJhjYe7VWGsgT9DyuMhChSP4k8WrR9XiVwfsV2mf5ufMJLhWkREciGLuSYetks2s2Go37nm6p-0wWMNLpBsgrdrPjGbtLp4Oy-P4YEHaRiQFJTCsI-7ze5226TCvU4_AtXFxcm/s1600/TL_june2010_lg_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA3abKdwOJhjYe7VWGsgT9DyuMhChSP4k8WrR9XiVwfsV2mf5ufMJLhWkREciGLuSYetks2s2Go37nm6p-0wWMNLpBsgrdrPjGbtLp4Oy-P4YEHaRiQFJTCsI-7ze5226TCvU4_AtXFxcm/s320/TL_june2010_lg_.jpg" wt="true" /></a></div>This month’s feature article, <em>50 Reasons to Love Toronto Now</em>, covers what we love most about our city--from educational reformers like Chris Spence, to restaurants dedicated solely to a comfort food fave, Grilled Cheese, offered up in ten tantalizing versions in Kensington Market. My favourite of the list was number 9, though--The Toronto Temperance Society. An ode to all the cliques, high-society and the no-boys/girls-allowed treehouse mentality, this members-only club located above Sidecar on College is a drinking club for the wealthy. For an annual fee just shy of $300 dollars, members sip on only-the-best cocktails while abiding by strange clubhouse rules (the most entertaining being a strict no-cosmo policy that, if broken results in immediate removal from the premises). Definitely tickles my Gossip Girl fancy. <br />
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Here’s what’s next on my list of indulgences: <br />
Rumors by Anna Godbersen…Part 2 of The Luxe teen series<br />
The Sweet Life in Paris by pastry chef David Lebovitz <br />
Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass the classic by Lewis Carroll (a must-read before London)<br />
The House at Riverton by Kate Morton (Forgotten Garden)<br />
The latest issue of FASHION that just arrived in my mail box today<br />
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And of course next month issues of my faves from the stands<br />
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Any suggestions??femme fraichehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11900939969288086288noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3350258473847438337.post-11148048018117968092010-05-15T13:35:00.001-07:002010-05-23T16:38:38.896-07:00Al GustoTucked away in a hiding spot so common to many Vaughan venues (that is, an industrial park), sits Al Gusto-- restaurant, pizzeria, gelateria, bakery, cafe, etc. This multi-purpose venue offers you everything you crave all in one spot with the added convenience of being open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week (a notable difference when comparing it to most other neighbourhood bakeries that close no later than 8pm). <br />
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Nostalgic for Europe, as always, and anxious for a gelato experience to allow my taste buds to reminisce the way my mind does constantly, I made my first visit to Al Gusto with great friend Alessandra Nicole. I must say, when I first entered I was slightly disappointed. At first look, the large size and serene-ness of the place did not bring me back in time or evoke any sense of familiarity. But a closer examination proved me wrong. Not only does the pastry counter offer every traditional delicacy imaginable like canoli and mini tiramisu (were my eyes fooling me, or did I miss out on the cornetti?) but the gelato bar is fully stocked with both classic flavours like Nocciola, Amaretto, Fragola and Banane and the less common selections of Kinder and Fior di Latte. Not only iss the bar obviously accented with oak wood, but the shelves that line the mirrored walls are faced with bottles of spirits, wines and liqueurs and, of course, boxes of Baci chocolate. <br />
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The cozy clustered cafe tables in the front of the restaurant are home to a wide range of guests on this rainy Tuesday evening--a pair of girlfriends catching up, a large group of young parents and their children, several mid-older couples, and a group of young espresso-sparkling-water-drinking men. The typical crowd, familiar decor, predictable menu and delicious cappuccinos painted a beautiful picture of a night in Roma (with the added bonus of a young staff with, get this, authentic, straight from the home-land accents, working alongside their elderly parents). I indulged in a banana-stracciatella mixture (my two ultimate faves) while Ale opted for a chocolaty mixture of banana and Bacio. Both were a pleasant serving size and both came with brightly coloured wafer rolls (to be enjoyed as a mixture of crunchy and creamy). Despite an educational conversation on the Canadian music industry with Ale (aspiring Canadian girl-group artist from Queen of Hearts, check them out at http://www.queenofheartsmusic.com/), our cappuccino mugs and gelato cups were quickly emptied (and by emptied I mean licked clean). <br />
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Although, the experience did allow me a quick peek down memory lane, lingering patrons reminded me that, in harsh reality, we were not in Italy and gelatos-to-go in colourful coppas were not to be enjoyed on cobblestone streets that did not await us outside...ahh, some things just aren't replaceable. <br />
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Al Gusto is located at 8099 Weston Rd (between Highway 7 and Langstaff) with an additional entrance from Jevlan. In addition to its cafe brimming with sweet treats, Al Gusto is also a pizzeria, salumeria and full-service ristorante with a tavola calda and pane.femme fraichehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11900939969288086288noreply@blogger.com0