”Why didn’t I think of that?”. 

She and I were  having a lovely alfresco lunch with her family this past summer, when I spied a small glass jar with a hand written label “Savoury Sea Salt” hiding amongst the table top condiments.

”Wow, how did you make this?” I asked, turning the jar in my hands,and admiring its’ gorgeous soft green hue.

It was as if each crystal had been dipped in green glow paint. I knew this kind of culinary uniformity did not happen by accident- it was too perfect.

Shyly shrugging off my compliments, she told me she just threw a few herbs in her food processor with some coarse salt.

”That’s it?”  I pressed her for details like she’d been caught fleeing a crime scene.

Finally, she fessed up like I knew she would.You can’t make something that cool and expect to get away with it.

Savoury  Sea Salt

1 cup of coarse Italian sea salt

1 cup of fresh herbs( rosemary, thyme, oregano combo)

Whizz together in a food processor, the mixture should be slightly damp.

Onto a cookie sheet to dry in the sun. No sun? a low oven should do the trick.

  It’s that simple.  Make this now while fresh herbs are still going strong in the garden..and there are a few sunny days left!

My childhood summers come back to me in blurry snapshots. Assorted relatives waving nutcrackers above small piles of shattered orange carcasses. Smudgey butter- soaked newsprint. A big black enamel pot at one end of the table, small bowls of  melted butter and white vinegar scattered thru the  table top debris to the other end. Kids in ill-fitting bathing suits, a background blur.

 I love lobster. Not only do I love lobster, I  heart the living daylights out of it. It has become a ritual when I return to Nova Scotia each summer  to pay  culinary tribute to my favorite crustacean. 

May I present, Lobster tribute ’09…

THE LOBSTER MINI PITA

 1-2 cups of cooked lobster meat

 1 T.chopped celery leaves

 1/2 cup celery, fine dice

 1 T.fresh tarragon, chopped

3-4 tsp. fresh lime juice

1/2 cup of your best olive oil

 salt and pepper

Fresh arugula leaves

 super cute mini pitas

*********************************

The Method

Whisk lime juice into the olive oil, s&p, add celery leaves, tarragon, and the chopped celery.

Add the cooked lobster meat to this mixture, and set aside(fridge!)

Lovingly trim the tops off the mini pitas, and have  arugula at your fingertips.

Now, fill the pitas- a whopping Tablespoon or so full, draining off some of the liquid as you go.

Add the jaunty arugula at the end, and there you have it,Lobster tribute  ’09.

Prosecco, anyone?

On my way out, something fantastic caught my eye. Nature. Lush, green-ness tumbling down the side of a concrete building.  A zucchini on a mission.

Thank you, visionary roof-top guerilla gardener- You totally made my day.

Moccias’ is having a strange effect on me lately. The gold font lettering on the window pulling at my eyes as I drive by . The  gorgeous antique meat slicer pushed into the window just so. After days of drive-bys’, I decide it’s time . I slink in one hot afternoon pretending it’s the most normal thing in the world for me to be there, trying to decide which cut of meat for my pretend Barbeque. 

“Do you know what you’d like?” handsome counter man inquires

I realize then and there that “I’m just looking” is not going to fly.

My  eyes dart cross  a myriad of fleshy possibilities. Glistening cuts  artfully arranged in the cool, glassy case. Animals lovingly refashioned  into red slabs. Vittellone, pork steaks, perfect rounds of osso buco. I pick what I think to contain  the  least amount of blood and guts.

“400 grams of proscuitto please”  Safe, dry , possibly years since it walked on its cute little  Italian hooves.

 Moccias’ is a family business that’s been around since 1968 on a quickly changing strip of East Hastings. Poppa Urbani , his two sons, and  the lovely Cory keep this place humming with beautifully packaged, humane meat choices for the conscious consumer.

I have found their risotto balls to be the perfect lazy day, gourmet choice for me. A splash of tomato sauce, a few greens and a glass of pinot grigio have been my idea of perfection a few times now.  I keep their mild cacciatori dry cured salami in our deli bin in the fridge for those who may need a little more to satisfy. Apparently, it is capital D, Delicious,like all their meats.

Who knows?, maybe someday  I will find myself reaching for pepperoni stick instead of a carrot stick…

Moccias’ Italian Meat Market

2276 East Hastings St.

Vancouver, BC

WWW.MOCCIA.CA

604-255-2032

To me, Lavender belonged in a sachet, not a sorbet.

You won’t find me running to any Lavender themed buffets just yet, but I am warming up to those slender spikes of mauve in surprising ways. Like someone at work you didn’t realize you had a crush on until that boozey good-bye hug at the Christmas party. I find myself intrigued and just a little fascinated.

 Another cooking school flashback . Simple syrup! I would make a Lavender simple syrup. I wasn’t sure what I would do with it , but there I was late one night boiling up water and sugar, and throwing in a handful of  stiff purple blosssoms, the smell saturating the kitchen in day-spa proportions.There was no turning back now.I strained the sweet aromatic mix into a clear, slender bottle. The color was disappointingly muddy(maybe use white death sugar next time?), but the taste, oh my!

The Lavender syrup has found itself being poured over, or into, many things in my house this past week….

1. lemon ice cream with fresh raspberries. wow.
2. rooibos tea, hot and cold. Gulped and loved by ten year olds!
3. Earl grey tea. The knock-out double flower effect kept me reaching for the kettle.                                                                 
4. Lavender spritzer impressed  my guests( and myself!) with it’s refreshing floral hit   

      Feeling the need to explore? Make your own- It’s so easy!

      Lavender Syrup

       2 cups water

      2 cups white(ish) sugar

      generous handful of fresh lavender blossoms

       method

     Bring all to a low simmer for 5 minutes.

      walk away.

      Come back in an hour or so.

      Strain into a clean glass jar. When it is completely cooled, put

      it in your fridge! 

      Keeps well for at least two weeks.

  Lavender Spritzer

1/2 cup lemonade

1/2 cup fizzy water of your choice

2  T. lavender syrup

    Tall glass, lots of ice, stir and serve!

    I served mine with a few fresh raspberries, and a couple of sprigs of lavender.

   I have a sneaking suspicion that an ounce or so of vodka would find a cozy home in that glass as well. Just a thought.

I stumbled across this little known fact recently at the Tofino Food and Wine Festival in early June. I was a couple of glasses of  fruit wine into this spectacular event,and I was feeling like I had dropped down the rabbit hole of culinary happenings, blinking into the bright sunshine at the Tofino botanical gardens, and surounded on all sides by incredible food.

Mini local sausages in perfect little buns with hand-crafted condiments from The Wickaninnish chefs, dressed in their adorable faux farmer outfits complete with frayed straw hats? Sure!

Chilled cucumber shot glasses of  a vodka gazpacho from the talented Barrie at Shelter restaurant? Sure!

Toothpicked  morsels of the best brie on the entire planet? Are you kidding me?(cue sound of needle being pulled off a record here) There , under the modest cover of a white, 10 by 10  tent, on a small floral grandma plate, sat tiny wedges of the finest brie you could possibly sink your teeth into. Slightly sweet and grassy ,with the softest  bloomy mushroom rind, I could taste immediately why this modest wheel had earned it’s global title.

Here it is, Best Brie in the World!

 Paul Sutter is the master cheesemaker behind the wheel at Natural Pasture Cheese in Comox. His artisan flair, combined with the perfect terroir and many happy cows pushed the humble little Comox Brie into the spotlight at this years World Cheese competition in France.

I spoke with one of the owners of Natural Pastures  who told me that a judge pulled him aside after they had been awarded the gold,and whispered into ear that his cheese was what Brie was like in Normandy  forty years ago! Mon dieu.

Quel horreur! Imagine out-brieing France. This would be like taking the pasta title away from Italy, and giving it to Thailand. What do those pesky little Canadians know about making the finest Brie? 

Apparently, beaucoup, my friend. Beaucoup!

I had caught the urban farmer bug, and the only cure was to dig . Sod be gone!

Before Blueberries

  Mentally rolling up my sleeves, I was ready to transform this sorry piece of water-sucking  grass into a never-ending blueberry patch.

  In Nova Scotia, I had spent way too many hours in the boggy field behind our house cramming fat, wild blueberries into my 4L ice-cream pail ( we used to eat that much ice-cream? that explains a lot) I would thrash my way back to the house, scratched and victorious with my pail at it’s tipping point, plunking it on the counter.

My mom, our resident clean freak ,looked on with cautious praise  no doubt seeing it as a bucket of bugs with a few blueberries on top. Myself, I saw quite the opposite. This also explains a lot.

Project blueberry began on a rainy day in May, with our trusty “Stan the Van” pulled curbside, and carefully lined with an old blue tarp. Shovels in hand, and properly fueled on double americanos, my hubby and I sawed through the thick grass roots, dividing the lawn into chunky squares.

Removing these squares required a technique not unlike two WWF wrestlers , sweaty and entangled -pushing themselves beyond their blind-rage limits, and shouting obscenities at each other (sod smackdown!). We got it done somehow, exchanging the sod for two yards of steaming dirt, which filled in the muddy plot quite nicely.

The next step now was to locate decently priced blueberry bushes. Local nurseries were  pushing their little black tubs of blueberry plants for $12-$14 each.  According to my calculations, I determined that I could bring 16 plants to their full potential comfortably . I was not prepared to(pitch) fork over the cash at that inflated price.

After a bit of sleuthing,  I came across a nursery spanning many acres in Abbotsford that humbly offered up their blueberry bushes for  the ridiculous price of $3 each.  We quickly filled up Stan with our required 2 varities before Mr. Blueberry man had a change of heart.

Blueberries love a slightly sandy, acidic soil. Check. South -facing, if possible. Check.  Spaced 18 inches apart, properly mulched and watered every other day, these babies were gauranteed  to provide us with an avalanche of berries come harvest time.

I have my 4l pail ready and waiting.

Were our summers too short?  Did the neon,  orange-colored popsicle muscle you out of every battered corner store freezer?

Did the fudgesicle really win after all?

Maybe  I remember you in a fuzzy, perfect summer day vignette that never happened. Maybe my over-active ten year old imagination invented you out of  nothingness, only to torture me for the remainder of my sad, Rootbeer popsicle-free adulthood. The nagging questions remain. Where have you gone, and why?

I poll friends from the scattered corners of the country.

“Those were my favorite! My brother and I fought over rootbeer popsicles all the time!”

” Oh my god, do you have any?”

” I  haven’t seen those for years!’

I am re-assured.  Many of us still mourn the loss of this frosty summer icon. Future generations of hot and dusty children robbed of their own perfect rootbeer popsicle moment.

Precise crystalline structure marries distinctly delicious rootbeer flavor within the covers of a cheap paper wrapper.  Even as a kid, I knew they could have done better with that after-thought packaging of theirs.  The sad paper wrapping concealed my  cherished 50 cent treat ( no, not that bad-boy rapper).

Were you some popsicle inventors mistake? An after-hours popsicle factory love child? Is this why there is no uproar about your disapperance? Why so hush-hush? No matter. I love you just the same. But come back soon darling.  Summers’ here, and I miss you more and more.

I will re-invent you like a mad, culinary frankenstein.  I will conjure your essence back to me, bite, after perfect bite.

Recipe  #1

* 2 cans of Santa Cruz organic rootbeer (it’s clear, I was shocked!)

* 1  T. Rootbeer tea mix

Method

* boil in a medium sized saucepan, until reduced by half.

* strain, cool, set aside.

* fill yer popsicle molds! place carefully in your freezer.

   voila.

Recipe  #2

You will need a small bottle of rootbeer concentrate. I found mine  at a brew shop on a dusty shelf in the very corner of the store, which only fueled my rootbeer popsicle conspiracy theory.

 *  1 T. of rootbeer concentrate

*   1 cup of your finest white sugar

 *   3 cups of boiled water ( put the kettle on !)

Method

Mix all ingredients until the sugar has dissolved nicely.  Set aside to cool.

Fill those popsicle molds with tasty rootbeer goodness!  Into the freezer they go.

Swoon with delight on the next scorching hot day, as you bite into your very own

rootbeer popsicle creation, which won’t be the same as your childhood one, but it

will be  close. Damn close.

The first line was 50 deep when I stepped in to pay. Wooden fork and paper plate in hand, I was directed to the next line -up that snaked all the way back to the “GO FISH” shack. The loudspeakers crackled out confusing updates in a charming Italian accent.

“Everyone! the price is $10 a prawn!”

 Heads turned to each other all the way down the line.

“No, no I mean $10 a plate, a plate gives you 5 prawns only.There are 7 prawn dishes to choose from, but only choose 5!”

Clear as mud, we shuffled closer to the white pop-up tents that filled the dock.

Above the crowd,  I could see tall paper chef hats bobbing together as pairs of chefs’ at each long table cranked out their unique ode to the spot prawn. Butane burners did double-time in the mid-day sun, as Prawns were finessed and re-invented before our very eyes. Carefully prepared mise-en -place scattered as chefs scrambled to keep up with  hands that shot out with empty paper plates.

Fresh prawns were available from the boat, and those brave enough to subject themselves  to a third line-up were rewarded with clear bags bulging with fat, pink Spot prawns.

“$12 a pound folks. Boat is here everyday between 12-6″

Jeff Van Geest of Diva at the Met offered up mini cups of his wild nettle veloute with a spot pawn relish that floated momentarily on the soft green-ness .