sybarites

While at the grocery store I had a craving for Kraft Dinner. I volunteered to eat it while Janet was away for the weekend, but it seemed that she had the same craving. We ate it that day for lunch.

I have a scientific approach to cooking KD, while Jan’s a free-style girl. I cook the pasta for exactly seven minutes, otherwise it’s too mushy. I usually use a little extra butter which must be melted in the microwave to to keep the pasta hot—same with the milk. Everything must be measured.

Since the last time I made KD, Kraft added a second set of “healthy” instructions to cut down on the amount of fat. They suggest to use 1/3 of the butter and add more non-fat milk. If I’m polluting my body with processed food, why would I do that?

As much as I was craving KD, I still expected to be somewhat disgusted when eating it. It was actually a pleasant and satisfying experience. I would like to say that it brought back warm memories of childhood, but my days of bachelorhood were fresher in my mind.

Last week, on the very cusp of the release of the new Michelin Guide, we made a decidedly simple supper of Cheese and Salami Salad Sandwiches. The only thing Michelin-y about this meal is that the onions we used in the salad are red and the book has a red cover. But we laced the sandwiches with arugula which poshed them up a bit.

There is an interesting post on another blogger’s site commenting on an article written about the release of the new publication. The article was fairly à propos for me as I am nearly finished reading The Perfectionist: Life and Death in Haute Cuisine which describes the life and death of Bernard Loiseau, a 3-Star chef who suffered from bipolar disorder and sadly committed suicide upon the loss of one of his stars. The book has proved really fascinating to me and enlightening in terms of the culture and history of French cuisine. Plus, I am now able to recognize some names of prominent chefs of the past and know more about the big name chefs of today- their background, influences, inspirations, styles.

The blogger, Pim, provides some insight into the serious foodie world as she lives in San Francisco and has an enviable lifestyle which involves traveling for work and she is, therefore, able to actually visit some of the restaurants in the guide. Meanwhile, I shall continue to pine away in coldest Canada (it is snowing outside my office window as I type this.) In her comments, and in the article itself, I find myself particularly curious about the choice some chefs are making nowadays to “dumb down” the cuisine and focus less on obtaining a macaroon (as the Michelin stars are nick-named) and more on providing client-friendly food and atmosphere. I’ve never been to an étoil-ed restaurant (though sometime, before I die, I will have!) so I really don’t have an understanding of what, exactly, makes these restaurants so special– written like a true plebian. I would imagine that half of the refinements which elevate an establishment above its peers would be lost on me. Still, I am curious enough to put it on my life’s to do list.

At any rate, our meal was very pretty, though a little heavy on the red wine vinegar. When I make this again, it will be with smoked Gouda, instead of plain, and with fewer capers, as well.

[ed. this is the first time EVER that we have written and posted simultaneously for the same meal. Crazy.]

Behold! Cheese, in all its cheesy, glorious glory! I think that if I were to start a religion, it would be based on the worship of cheese. Pictured at left are the earthly incarnations of the Cheese that we ate last week for dinner.

[Note: we had actually planned a real meal but Marc lost money on his Google stocks and to feel better, he suggested that we eat cheese.]

One definition that I found on the Interweb says that religion is “a cause, principle, or activity pursued with zeal or conscientious devotion.” Ergo, the activity that I pursue with zeal and conscientious devotion is the eating of The Cheese. Ha!

In my religion, most of the deadly sins would be reversed and revered as holy behaviour in relation to The Cheese: Lust for, Gluttony involving, Avarice towards, Wrath of not having, Pride of having eaten, Envy of others eating, Sloth as a result of having eaten. The Holy Trinity would be The Milk, The Rind and The Mighty Bacteria. Cows would be holy, same for sheep and goats. We would not eat them and would decorate them with leis of flowers. Reincarnation is out; the caste system is out. But maybe long ago in a galaxy far, far away, someone might have obtained Nirvana whilst sitting under the Bo tree and eating cheddar.

What elevated this dinner to super-holy was the crackers. They are a dark and be-seeded variety made by Rainforest; I’ve only ever seen them for sale at Janice Beaton and at the Cookbook Company. They are very crisp and have sweet, sort of molasses flavour that is dead brilliant with a soft cheese, like Brebiou Pur Brebis. (I haven’t been able to find that cheese in my Encyclopedia of Cheese though, so maybe it is a variety specific to Canada. Might have to do some cheese research.) Also, this evening of worship included Marc’s first attempt at home-made ciabatta bread (which, incidentally, he CANNOT say without adding an extra “–batta” to the end). I know it did not meet his high standard of excellence in the art of bread, but it tasted pretty good to me and provided a very effective medium of getting pâté from knife to mouth. The congregants of my religion would live short, but very sweet, lives.

Last week I had an urge to eat cheese, an urge originating in Jan’s training of my palette. I had finally cashed in a gift certificate from the cookbook company, which I received as a present in 2004, for Raincoast Crisp crackers. There was also bread left over from my first bread baking experience.

This all led to the need for a few cheeses and a paté from Janice Beaton. The Brebious Pur Brebis, a French sheeps milk cheese, is now one of our favorites. I can’t quite recall the name of the other two. One was a hard cheese which had just arrived at the store and the other a goat’s milk cheese. Jan could better describe the cheeses. I also picked up the Terrine de Foie with Pink Peppercorns—a little fatty organ meat to finish off the plate.

I had intended to eat this as a little snack. It replaced supper.

This is the first post with our new blog. Blogger was a great introduction, but WordPress gives us a lot more options. Particularly, I’m looking forward to using tags. Should you want to look at food postings only, you can click “Food” in the right nav. The image editing and wysiwyg editor are quite impressive too.

While Jan was away over the weekend, I went bread crazy. I made the same ciabatta as last week with a few apricots thrown into the mix. I forgot to coat them in flour after I boiled them, but it worked out ok.

Bob’s Restaurant Bread was nearly a disaster. After spending ten minutes kneading the dough, I realized the second set of yeast was still sitting on the counter. In an attempt to salvage the dough, I mixed the yeast with a small amount of water and worked it into the dough. Miraculously, everything worked fine.

I nearly ruined the tuna sandwiches as well by chopping cilantro instead of parsley. This turned out to be a happy accident. We usaully make tuna sandwiches by going through the fridge for odd bottles and leftovers to mix together. This one had tuna, mayo, créme fraîche, capers, cilantro, celery, basil, garlic and sun dried tomatoes—super tasty.

Update: Comments can now be made without having an account. Thanks to Faith for the note.

I had never made bread before. Of course, I never pick the easiest recipes. If it’s not bakery artisan bread, it’s not worth making. Epicurious has a recipe for ciabatta that only requires two days and only one ingredient we didn’t have, bread flour. I thought the few dregs of semolina flour would be sufficient.

The instructions called for a standing mixer, which we don’t have. The dough was much drier than the recipe stated on day one and much wetter before it went into the oven. After sitting in the fridge overnight it was suppose to look like thick oatmeal instead of hard dough.

In the end the bread was tasty, though a little heavy and not quite the right texture. Some of the hard dough bits turned into soft, dense spots. I planned to have the bread finished for the salami and cheese sandwiches which we had for supper—not even close. It made a nice snack in bed when buttered and a great sandwich with Tuscan ham, arugula and Gouda for lunch.