What I wouldn’t give to have her still here with me. She’d know exactly where I went wrong.

I’m sure she’d tell me it’s the *%# stewing beef. (My words, not hers!)

Not a scrap of marbling or fat on the pre-cut pieces — which, by the way, were only a half-inch thick.

What butcher worth his or her salt cuts stewing beef that small?

This is what you get at supermarkets these days: grade 9′ers “custom cutting.”

It would be too kind to say the beef in this stew was as tough as shoe leather.

While the beef was beyond redemption, the flavours of the sauce, I think, were Nonna-worthy. The hits of anchovy, fire roasted tomatoes, balsamic vinegar, and of course a good lug of red wine were subtle in their workings, the combined synergy made for a full bodied, well rounded sauce that would do any mound of creamy mashed potatoes or al dente fettuccine proud. I think Nonna would be proud, too.

Today, I’m going in for the re-do. Nonna deserves nothing less.

I’m heading to Halendas (butchers who’ve lived, breathed, slept, ate and sold quality Ontario raised meat and poultry since 1979). I’m thinking a good, old-fashioned pot roast. Oven braised instead of being cooked on the stove top. I’ll ask one of their oh-so-capable butchers for advise: not a one is under 40-years-old.

I continue to be in the throws of recipe testing for the next cookbook, Sunday Supper… any night of the week, though today’s offerings are more in keeping with the Slow Food Movement than a three-course Sunday supper-like meal made in about an hour.

I’m testing Nona’s Slow Braised Beef Stew and an Herby Potato Galette: they’re keepers. But I’ll have to add a recipe sidebar advising to keep these dishes for a true Sunday night dinner.

This afternoon I’m looking forward to a visit from master gardener, Beth Cook from Sweet Results. She’s going to assess my garden and tell me where I went wrong.

I’m sure I’m not the only one on the planet who didn’t know that sunflowers weren’t perennial.

Madras Grilled shrimp skewers with curried couscous; all “found” ingredients in my pantries.

That’s P-A-N-T-R-I-E-S, silly!

Enjoy.

xo

Same holds true for fellow writer (and today’s guest food blogger), April Hoeller, before and now… as in at last we spoke (10am EDT yesterday) she was experiencing 2.5 meter swells at 33deg 28′ N latitude; 44deg 31′ W longitude, crossing the big pond we call the Atlantic Ocean.

April and her other half, Norbert, are avid world travellers. They are the kind of people I like to hang with. Great road stories told through a writer’s keen eye.

So I asked April if I could share her food discoveries with my Fridge Whisperer warriors.

She was flattered I asked.

And while I’m so envious I’m not along for the ride, we all can live viciously through her foodie@large musings.

Thanks, April, for paying it forward.

The swells have us rolling along on the great big sea. It’s a soothing kind of roll that is good for lounging but requires frequent balance corrections when walking, resulting in a somewhat weaving gait (drunken?).

The past two days have been wonderfully low key — lounging in the solarium interspersed with Smithsonian Institute lectures on astronomy (excellent speaker, David Hughes), food & drink, and cooking demonstrations with Executive Chef Olivier Trividic and his guest chef, Jay P. Brooks of Food Network fame.

Chef Olivier has one of those absolutely delicious French accents that starts me drooling the moment he speaks. And of course because he is French, there is no shortage of butter in the recipes.

I must say the croissants on board the ship are the best I’ve ever had. So, too, the brioche, baguette, napoleons, crepes, tiramasu… I could go on.

I think what impresses me most about Chef Olivier is the way he handles the ingredients. I think it’s something you have to see to fully appreciate but there is a gentleness, dare I say a loving respect for each and every component that is then drawn together. He talks about the “butter singing” in the pan. I wish I could imitate the accent for you — a little drawn out and soft, almost melodic.

Today’s discovery was The Bistro, a creperie which at lunch was unusually quiet. I could not resist, and the French crepe with oranges and Grand Marnier proved the perfect ending to my fabulous grilled calamari salad with a mini (tres mini 1″x6″ of crisp crust and soft, slightly chewy inside) baguette: delish!

I couldn’t be happier.

Since yesterday 8 p.m., I’ve created Oven Fried Coconut Shrimp with Citrus Aoili; Butternut Squash and Sausage Bake; Tuscan Rosemary-Bacon Skillet Cornbread (with Arugula Salad and Fried Egg); and Creamy Sweet Potato and Coconut Soup.

All, I’m proud to say, are keepers.

Boy, was dinner last night and lunch and dinner today grand.

Tomorrow I’m tackling Moroccan-Spiced Lamb Kefta and the much dreaded re-do x4 Individual Chicken Pot Pies. I don’t understand it. Why is my chicken gravy perfect when I make a pot pie that feeds four but when they’re individual ramekins it sucks?

Hopefully my Fridge Whisperer recipe tester-taster (and fellow writer), Sandra J. Clarke, worked out the kinks for me. She backed out a 1/4 cup of chicken stock in her re-do of my recipe and her family went wild; the gravy a perfect creamy consistency, as it should be.

Here’s hoping!