Foodie@Large: unorthodox deconstruction…
My mind’s eye keeps travelling back to December 2010 and my first bite of “fundraiser moussaka” purchased from the back kitchen at the Greek Orthodox Church in Oshawa, Ontario. It’s the best I’ve ever eaten. And what with growing up in my best friend’s Greek kitchen in the early ’70s and living a stone’s throw from Toronto’s Greektown for a lot of my life, suffice to say, moussaka is in my blood.
I can’t tell you how happy I was to return to the church kitchen this afternoon and find the same ladies behind the counter dishing out homemade, front-scratch lemon-oregano rice, roasted potatoes, shish kebabs, spanakopita, dolmades, baklava and, of course, their decadent multi-layered moussaka.
I tried chatting them up in hopes they’d talk moussaka-speak. But they’re crafty, this lot of blessed cooking babes. They feigned not understanding, shook their heads collectively, spoke to one another in their mother tongue.
It’s not that I don’t want to support their cause. I do! It’s just that I really want to try my hand recreating their dish in my own kitchen. Perfected, I could whip up a pan of moussaka at midnight should the fancy take me.
I couldn’t trust myself to stay the course and not eat the test subject before deconstructing it so I bought two portions of moussaka. I chowed down the first piece in record time. God. Just like I remembered. So friggin’ good it ought to be illegal. Or at least cost more than the paltry $4 they charge. This is a regular Thursday afternoon fundraiser for the church. They’re never going to reach their building fund goals with these prices. This thought must have been playing on my mind because I told the lady to keep the change from my sawbuck.
Satiated, I went to work on the second piece of moussaka, ever-so-gently pulling back the layers, a notebook and pen at the ready to record my findings.
For one thing, they use ground beef, not traditional ground lamb which is way more expensive and wouldn’t allow them to dish it out at four bucks a pop. What I couldn’t figure out is whether or not they cook off the potato and eggplant slices before assembling the moussaka. I’ve made moussaka countless times and always par-boil the potatoes and oven bake the eggplant slices before incorporating them into the dish. But the texture of the potatoes and eggplant in the fundraiser moussaka was way different than mine. I’m thinking they’re cooked off first but maybe using a different method. Perhaps they steam the potato slices and pan fry the eggplant?
Time and testing (and re-testing) will tell.
Annunciation Of The Virgin Mary Greek Orthodox Church
hosted by The Hellenic Orthodox Community of Oshawa in the church hall,
261 Bloor Street East, Oshawa, ON L1H 3M3
(905) 728-5969 eat in or take out
Catering for all occasions call (905) 725-3083
Greek food served every Thursday 11 am to 4 pm
Think Tank Lunch; the results show…
I re-paid these learned ladies in-kind with a Fridge Whisperer-inspired four-course lunch.
The menu, you ask?
For starters we had a spicy lentil salsa with Tostitos scoops: a light nibble to whet the appetite and keep us engaged in the brainstorming while lunch was baking off.
Next, I think I did Chef Emily proud, recreating her lovely Panko encrusted poached eggs which were deep fried to a golden crispy brown. Instead of reproducing Em’s watercress coulis, I set these golden orbs of deliciousness atop a lightly dressed arugula salad. The yolks perfectly runny, as they should be.
The third course was my newest recipe I’m working on for The Fridge Whisperer: Sunday Supper… any night of the week cookbook. Individual savoury chicken potpies. After we ate them we rated them. The recipe needs tweaking. More crust, thicker gravy, skip the frozen mixed veggies and go straight to the pea-carrot medley for old time’s sake.
Dessert, I approached with much trepidation. It was a light-as-a-feather Jell-O ’50s recipe that was supposed to look like a stained glass cheesecake. And it did! But the crust was total crap. You see, this was the first time I’d ever attempted to create my own graham cracker cookie base. The thing was like a piece of granite. Even with a serrated knife I couldn’t cut through it. The cake was to be served in clean, “upright” slices so that the eater could appreciate the coloured mosaic patterns of the various coloured Jell-O cubes before chowing down on it.
Of course my mavens oohed and aahed anyway.
But they kinda like me.
Working writers’ lunch…
Tomorrow I’m hosting a meeting of the minds. Media mavens, Cathy Minz and Janet Boccone are brainstorming with me in my humble Fridge Whisperer kitchen.
Our goal? To bring The Fridge Whisperer Cookbook Series into the hard drives of home cooks the world over.
To make this a total working girls’ lunch, I’m going to put these learned ladies through a taste-test of some of the recipes I’m working on for The Fridge Whisperer: Sunday Supper… any night of the week.
I’m angst, though, on what to serve. All the recipes I’ve developed so far are so tasty-sounding that I’m having trouble deciding which ones I should put through their first-draft paces.
Plus I’m still pining for Chef Emily‘s Panko encrusted poached eggs.
I’m also thinking I shouldn’t post tomorrow’s menu today. Where’s the fun in that?
I want my working girls’ lunch to be spontaneous, inspiring, insightful, and delicious. Full of complimentary flavours and textures to delight the taste buds and grease the think-tank machine.
I’ve boiled it down to a choice of two starters. They can chose. Even have both, if the fancy takes them. And one “Sunday comfort” entree.
For dessert, only the culinary gods know.
That’s the part of the menu that generally stumps this chump. Though I did download a Jell-O refrigerator cake recipe yesterday that looked interesting.
Hey, what’s a working girls’ old-fashioned Sunday supper-style lunch without Jell-O?
My promise to you ladies (I know you’re reading this post!), is that the jelly won’t be in the form of a moulded salad.
I know I can do better than that.
Porch Chatting with Chef Emily Watkins…
Packing her only tools-of-the-trade — a tireless work ethic and an unshakable faith in her life’s destiny — the c.v.-less, non-Italian-speaking Watkins walked into a restaurant kitchen in Florence and secured herself an unpaid internship.
“I was so lucky I didn’t understand a word they were saying,” says Chef Watkins. “They thought I was tough as nails because I put up with their yelling and screaming at me all the time. But not understanding the language gave me the opportunity to get my head wrapped around what I was doing without being eternally damaged by what they were saying about me.”
Within three years, the now fluently Italian-speaking Watkins worked her way through the brigade to junior sous-chef and counts her mentors as steadfast friends to this day.
I ask Chef what was the biggest take-away from her time working in a Florentine kitchen.
Says Watkins, “Embracing what you’ve got around you and making the most of it. They are so proud of what they have in Italy. They will argue until they’re red in the face over whether the wine grapes on the left bank of the field are better than those growing in the right bank of the field. For Italian cooks, there’s really no need to take ingredients from the Far East to complete a dish.”
Back in the UK, Watkins further honed her craft under the watchful eye of Heston Blumenthal, one of England’s finest chefs, at the Fat Duck in Bray.
Today, Watkins is one of the UK’s fastest rising chefs. With her partner-in-crime, front-of-house maestro, Miles Watkins, this dynamic duo – aside from raising two small children; the eldest passionate about cooking and crackling — wow patrons with their “10 Mile Menu” at their pub-restaurant-inn, The Kingham Plough in Oxfordshire, England.
The much-lauded pub has been awarded a prestigious Bib Gourmand from the Michelin guide for three years running, as well as numerous other accolades, including two AA Rosettes and Dining Pub of the Year (Cotswold Life 2008 & 2010).
Watkins’ ever-changing menu embraces the season. Each plate through her pass reflects at least 85 per cent of what’s grown and raised within a 10 mile radius of the restaurant’s kitchen door, the ingredients transformed into unique interpretations of British cuisine. Watkins describes her approach to cooking as unfussy; simple, seasonal, earthy. As great ingredients deserve to be treated.
From January 23 through January 27, 2012, as chef-in-residence, Watkins will be on this side of the pond mentoring Stratford Chefs’ School students on nose-to-tail cookery with a decidedly Best of Britain menu.
As a prelude to her time at the School, last Thursday Watkins — sided by Stratford Chefs School well-seasoned students, Blair, Randi and Cortney — led a participatory class of about 20 Danforth Collegiate culinary students to put on a luncheon for media and industry professionals.
While the menu as a whole was unpretentious, each course did comprise three or more layers of flavour. Suffice to say Chef Watkins really put these kids through their paces. No doubt she designed the menu to give the students as much exposure to technique as could be squeezed into a two-hour prep session while navigating hot pots and sizzling pans past idle reporters and inquisitive gastrogeeks jockeying for a foothold back-of-house.
I don’t know how they managed it, but managed they did. Chef Watkins and her brigade delivered an incredible three-course lunch, on time and with impeccable flair.
The starter course was a crispy Panko encrusted poached egg — with the most perfect runny yolk — pan fried lardons set atop a watercress coulis. The dish was flawless.
An entree of pan seared duck breast, done medium-rare, as it should be, was served over a bed of tender lentils and a side of caramelized endive. The duck was moist and full-flavoured, the skin crackling beautifully rendered. Another homerun.
For “pudding,” Chef whipped up a rich dark chocolate mousse, topped it with candied orange peel, and presented it with orange-scented biscuits. In a word, divine.
In my last minutes with Watkins I ask her about the Japanese Panko used in her first course; not exactly local food procurement.
Chef doesn’t miss a beat. She says, “Back at the restaurant I make my own Panko.”
Watkins takes a loaf of locally baked bread, whizzes two-thirds in a Robot-Coup to create fresh bread crumbs and lets the other third dry out completely before pulverizing it.
Says Chef, “The two lots mixed together make for a pretty good version of homemade Panko.”
Enough said.
Smelly fingers: part two…
One never knows where one’s blog posts will end up. Or one’s cookbooks. And how they affect one’s gentle reader.
My darlings, I’d like you to meet Agnes Roter, Fridge Whisperer’s newest warrior who resides in Richmond Hill with her husband and two young kids who both LOVE broccoli and, as Agnes puts it, “bravely put up with my culinary experiments.”
It appears Agnes is a girl after my own foodie heart, basking in the glory of garlic.
Take it away, Agnes…
Garlic – my nemesis.
I recently read “Deb’s Daily Dish” blog post about garlic, and how to clean your hands to remove its smell (and how as a chef, she really doesn’t mind the smell lingering on her fingers), and it made me want to face my garlic fears.
You see, I love garlic in recipes, don’t mind peeling it, chopping it. But the one thing I am absolutely incompetent at is roasting it. I’ve been to Italian restaurants where they set out bread with roasted garlic as a lovely appetizer. It’s sweet and soft and spreads like butter. But whenever I tried to recreate this in my own kitchen, I simply failed.
Some recipes say to bake the whole bulbs at a high temperature, others at low temp. Some call for it to be wrapped in foil, others say to add some oil. Add to this my oven’s temperament and tendency to under-heat, and I fail every time. It seemed the easiest dish on the planet, and yet I could not master it. Defeated, for years I gave up on the smell and feel and taste of freshly roasted whole garlic permeating my own kitchen.
But having tried a few recipes from “Lusciously Local” and being impressed with how easy they came together, I decided to give the “Roasted Garlic Puree” a go. And I’m happy to report that I faced my garlic debacles — in the form of 13 beautifully roasted garlic heads — and triumphed.
The house smelled like we were trying to warn off vampires, but nobody minded. With the easy instructions and The Fridge Whisperer’s no-salt all-purpose dried vegetable seasoning mix also featured in the book, this puree came together in a flash. And I admit, it was fun getting my hands dirty when squeezing out the roasted cloves. And shortly after that, we devoured about half the dip on batches of hungrily assembled crostini. But hey, garlic is very healthy for you, right?

















