Portrait of Boris and Audrey as Egg Warmers

Cat Egg Warmer pattern:

Materials: fingering yarn, any colours, size 12 needles, embroidery thread, broom bristles.

Tension: 8 sts. and 11 rows to 1 in. over st. st.

Pattern: CO 20.
K1, P1 rib for 5 rows.
St. st. for 26 rows.
Inc. 1 each end of next and every alternate row 3 times. (26 sts.)
Work to end of 36th row.
Dec. 1 each end of next and every alternate row 3 times.
Work to end of 61st row.
K1, P1 rib for 5 rows.
CO and weave in ends.

Finishing: Embroider eyes, nose and mouth. Fold cat in half and sew up seams with yarn. Thread broom bristles through nose for whiskers. If a tabby effect is desired, use a variegated yarn or different colours worked in intarsia. Done.

m

Two Montreal Classics in Two Days, Pt. 2: Wilensky's

Wilensky's Light Lunch
Originally uploaded by ajkinik.

Gone are the days featured in The Apprenticeship of Duddy Kravitz, the book and the film, and there are few examples that make this as crystal-clear as Wilensky’s (34 Fairmount W.). In the film version made by Ted Kotcheff, one of the early scenes takes place in the Wilensky’s of the early 1970s standing in for the Wilensky’s of a generation earlier. The space is done up in the syle of the cigar store and light lunch counter it was some 50 years ago now. Tables occupy the shop floor, and taxi drivers (like Kravitz’s father) and others (all men) use the place as a hang-out that’s a throwback to the Old World, not unlike the way places like Café Portugalia still operate today. Wilensky’s is represented as being a lively, smoky center for the local Mile End Jewish population, a crossroads for the community. The atmosphere is boisterous and kinetic, even if the regulars come across as being rooted to their seats. Wilensky’s Light Lunch is still in operation, still serving its legendary Wilensky Specials—a hot sandwich consisting of several slices of Bologna-style beef salami squeezed between a crusty, toasted bun that’s not unlike an English muffin, and some mustard—but the tables that appear in the movie haven’t been around for ages, and much of the community that supported a place like Wilensky’s for decades (the operation has been around since the Great Depression) hasn’t existed in the neighborhood for years now. Wilensky’s still has its die-hard regulars, but the restaurant definitely isn’t the teeming crossroads that it used to be, and, not surprisingly, the Wilensky Special’s price has shot up to $3.00 after having hovered around $1.50-$2.00 for a dog’s age. With traffic somewhat lighter these days, the staff of four that sits behind Wilensky's counter is still more than ready to take your order. In fact, the other day, when I took Michelle for her very first Special, we were served our lunches—two Specials, a half-sour, and a hand-pulled cherry cola—before the seat of my pants had even hit my stool. If anyone even flinches towards the door outside, the Specials are ready and waiting for them. My friend Ira refers to this aspect of Wilensky’s as an obsession with “risk management.” The staff at Wilensky’s is also—how shall I put it?—attentive, when it comes to clearing up. I still laugh when I think about how Ira used to bring his heavy critical theory tomes to Wilensky’s, order a Special with cheese and a soda, and then actually try to settle in to read for an hour or two. Wilensky’s still has an entire library of pulp fiction stacked on its walls, harking back to the days when people actually used to linger there, but these days, cracking open Foucault’s The Order of Things and making yourself comfortable is a sure-fire way to get run out of there on a rail. Oh, well… Our Light Lunch the other day was still classic—the bun was just as unique as it ever was, the bologna and salami were delicious, the half-sour tasted homemade, and the fresh cola was still a treat—even if we were in and out of there in under seven minutes. We hardly knew what hit us, but it sure tasted great.

aj

Two Montreal Classics in Two Days, Pt. 1: Cosmo, rev. ed.

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 fig. a:  interior design

Neither of us had been to Cosmo in quite some time, and we'd gotten enlisted to take Michelle's sister to the airport so that she could head down to Tampa and 25 C weather (while the temperature here in Montreal had dropped back down to -15 C), so we decided we'd drown our sorrows in a breakfast at Cosmo on our way back downtown.

Cosmo (5843 Sherbrooke West) remains one of those quintessetial Montreal breakfast joints: roughly 8 stools gathered round a small counter, a tiny kitchen, two counterhands, some homespun decor [see the photo above], and some killer, king-size breakfasts, including the legendary Mish-Mash (which combines eggs, potatoes, onions, and a selection of breakfast meats into an unholy mess of goodness). The first time I went was back in the late '80s when I was an undergrad at McGill. I lived downtown at the time, and like most other undergrads my knowledge of the city was limited, to say the least. Making it east past Park Lafontaine was a big deal; so was making it as far north as Van Horne. I remember going out to the old Café Campus near the University of Montreal a couple of times and thinking that was an achievement. Notre-Dame-de-Grace seemed like another universe; I don't think I'd made it further west than Atwater Market up until my roommate and I got invited out to Cosmo by a friend of his. I distinctly remember being fascinated by the time and effort that "Cosmo" put into preparing his fried potatoes. Boiled potatoes and onions would get slapped onto the greased griddle in huge quantities, and then "Cosmo" would spend the next 15-20 minutes slowly turning the potatoes over and over again until they'd reached perfection. Then everyone who'd ordered a breakfast over the last quarter of an hour or so would get served their breakfasts in a flurry of activity, and the whole process would start over again. The other thing I remember was the banter. This was a big-city place, with repartee worthy of a screwball comedy. "Cosmo" (a.k.a. Tony) may have retired a few years ago now [if you look closely at the photo above, you can see him among the other distinguished figures that grace the walls of his restaurant], but he still stops by his old stomping grounds now and again to check up on things, and not only does Cosmo still dish out the classic breakfasts, it's still dishing out the banter. We got an earful with our delicious eggs, potatoes, and bacon combos.

aj

By special request...

pink petit four
Originally uploaded by michelle1975.

This post is for my knitting group, who had such an enthusiastic reaction to these little pink cakes that I am posting a picture of one of them. These kirsch-flavoured minis were part of my final exam on petits fours.

Special dedication to Zoe, who is still very much a part of our knitting group, even if she is in Australia these days. Thinking of you...

m

Spinach and Roasted Pepper Frittata

Years ago, my friend Emilie gave me a copy of Annie Somerville's Fields of Greens: New Vegetarian Recipes from the Celebrated Greens Restaurant for my birthday. At first, I was a little intimidated by the book, and it took me a couple of years to warm up to it, but when I finally did, I really did. It's been a favorite cookbook ever since. The recipes are lively and delicious, with an emphasis on the use of seasonal vegetables, fresh herbs, and just the perfect amount of spice, and it's one of a number of cookbooks that I can think of that make a lie of that tired old line about vegetarian cuisine being boring and unsophisticated. I consider it a bit of a classic of California-style cuisine.

One of Somerville's recipes that we've gotten the most enjoyment out of is the following frittata recipe. It's been the centerpiece for a number of successful brunches we've held.

1 1/2 tbs light olive oil
2 bunches of spinach, stems removed and leaves washed, about 16 cups packed
Salt and pepper
4 garlic cloves, finely chopped
1 yellow or red bell pepper, roasted, peeeled and diced
2 scallions, both white and green parts, sliced on a diagonal
1 oz. Parmesan cheese, grated, about 1/3 cup
3 oz. feta cheese, crumbled, about 3/4 cup
1 tsp finely chopped fresh rosemary
2 tsp fresh lemon juice
8 eggs, beaten
3 tbs Reduced Balsamic Vinegar

Preheat the oven to 325 degrees Fahrenheit.

Heat 1/2 tbs of the olive oil in a large skillet. Wilt the spinach over high heat with 1/4 tsp salt, a few pinches of pepper, and the garlic. Drain and cool the spinach. Squeeze out the excess moisture a handful at a time and coarsely chop. Place the spinach in a bowl with the peppers, scallions, Parmesan, feta, rosemary, and lemon juice. Stir the eggs into the mixture and add 1/4 tsp salt and a few pinches of pepper.

In a 9-inch pan with an ovenproof handle (or one that you've temporarily ovenproofed with aluminum foil), heat the remaining tablespoon of oil to just below the smoking point. Swirl the oil around the sides of the pan to coat it, turn the heat down to low, then immediately pour the frittata mixture into the pan. The pan should be hot enough so that the eggs sizzle when they touch the oil. Cook the frittata over low heat for 1 to 2 minutes, until the sides begin to set; transfer to the oven and bake, uncovered, for 20 to 25 minutes, until the frittata is golden and firm.

Loosen the frittata gently with a rubber spatula; the bottom will tend to stick to the pan. Place a plate over the pan, flip it over, and turn the frittata out. Brush with the vinegar if you like. Serve warm or cool to room temperature. Cut into wedges and serve.

The frittata can also be cooked entirely in the oven. Pour into a lightly oiled baking dish and bake for about 25 minutes, until the eggs are golden and set.

Serves eight to ten.

To make Reduced Balsamic Vinegar:
In a small saucepan over high heat, reduce the vinegar to half its original volume. (For a more intensely flavored reduction, bring the volume down to one-third.) Be careful that all of the vinegar doesn't boil away as you reduce it. Cool and store in a sealed jar along with your other vinegars or refrigerate.

[both recipes from Annie Somerville's Fields of Greens]

aj

Mexican Chocolate Cookies, take 2

Mexican Chocolate Cookies, take 2
Originally uploaded by michelle1975.

This was our experiment with the corrected version of the Mexican Chocolate Icebox Cookies we posted about earlier. These cookies were much more solid and easier to work with. They could have used a touch more spice, because the added flour took out some of the punch the last batch had. The next time I will do the 3/4 tsp. cayenne rather than the 1/2 tsp. Otherwise they were perfect: crisp on the outside, soft and chewy on the inside. Much like a brownie. Highly recommended.

We served them with our brunch this afternoon. We had a spinach and roasted red pepper frittata, roasted potatoes, toasted baguette with an assortment of preserves (including blood orange marmalade), coffee, fresh-squeezed orange juice, and fresh pineapple. The cookies made a fine addition.

m

Late St. Valentine's Day Special

St. Valentine's Day specials (l-r: Anthony, Michelle)
Originally uploaded by michelle1975.

Due to technical problems, we were unable to post this on V Day, as planned. This is a cupcake I made for Anthony, along with one of me. They were chocolate with vanilla buttercream, and a few drops of colour for the face... I thought they were adorable.

m

Pupusas!

the front window at Los Planes
Originally uploaded by ajkinik.

We'd been in search of a good pupuseria ever since our previous favorite (La Carreta on St. Zotique) burned down, tragically, back in 2003. Last Saturday, I spotted Los Planes while making my way west along Bélanger from the St. Hubert shopping district. The bright sign with the long list of "jugos" (juices) caught my eye, and a quick look through the window convinced me that this was a pupuseria (a restaurant specializing in the stuffed patty-like tortillas that are the national specialty of El Salvador) worth revisiting. The next day I took Michelle there and we sat down to sample the goods. We were just looking for an afternoon snack so we ordered a platter that came with two pupusas, a tamale, and a coffee or juice. We ordered one cheese pupusa, one black bean pupusa, and a coffee, and Michelle also asked for a glass of horchata. When we'd placed our order we took a look at the massive jar of "curtido," the pickled cabbage salad typical of Salvadoran cuisine, and decided to give it a try. We both decided it was the best we'd ever had--nicely herbed and spiced, with just the right vinegariness to it. A few minutes later one of our waitresses returned with a couple of hermetically sealed serving utensils for the curtido and the jar of tangy red sauce that sat beside it. A moment or two later she returned with our two pupusas. As soon as they arrived we could tell they were going to be good--they looked lovingly handmade and they had that lightness to them that sets the best pupusas apart. Our hunches were confirmed as soon as we bit in. The cheese pupusas, which were also filled with scallions, were delicate and delicious, while the bean pupusas featured black beans that were absolutely outstanding. The tamale was of a sweeter variety that I'm used to, with a filling made with a mixture resembling creamed corn, but it, too, was fantastic, and the crema it was served with gave it just the sourness it needed to offset its sweetness.

Sunday afternoons are a good time to visit Los Planes. Sunday is traditionally the day that Salvadoran families go out to their favorite pupuseria together on an outing. They pick up a dozen or so, gather outside, and eat their pupusas with beers, juices, or sodas, while socializing with family and friends. When we showed up at Los Planes there were only a few tables taken, but a half an hour later, by 2:30 or so, the restaurant was packed with Salvadoran families and children clamoring for pupusas.

We'd found our new pupuseria. Both of us can't wait to go back and give the rest of the menu a try.

[Los Planes is located at 531 Bélanger E., between St. Denis and St. Hubert. It is very inexpensive.]

aj

Double Happiness

Raspberry Rose Ice Cream with a Pistachio Macaron
Originally uploaded by michelle1975.

Last week, I was invited to a Valentine's-themed dinner party where guests were asked to bring something in a shade of red and to wear something to match. There was borscht as the main, plenty of cheese, bread and chutney, and a little too much red wine for a school night. I brought dessert, of course. I knew Reema had been invited and I correctly assumed she would bring a cake. In this case, it turned out to be a deluxe "Red Velvet" cake, with a hint of chocolate and a very creamy buttercream icing, and it was delicious. This left me with the sides (yes, there are sides when it comes to dessert). I made raspberry rose ice cream and also brought some "cigarettes" I had made at school. Okay, I didn't make them: mine turned out less than presentable, so I asked one of my classmates for theirs. In any case, the combination went perfectly with the cake. Anthony was not able to make it to the dinner, so I saved him some ice cream and cake for later.

I have been making macarons for over a week now, and I think I have it down pat. One of the surprising secrets to a good macaron is to make a bad French meringue. You want it to turn out like royal icing--dense and pasty, almost--rather than fluffy and light like a good meringue. The filling is an intensely nutty pistachio cream. Last night, Anthony was looking for a way to photograph the pistachio macarons I'd made. He tried a number of different shots and then decided to match one with some of my leftover raspberry rose ice cream. Not only did the colors play off each other nicely, but the subtle nuttiness of the macarons balanced perfectly with the flowery ice cream. We shared a bowl and went to bed.

m

clementines are greater than gold

December clementine
Originally uploaded by ajkinik.

We had a feeling citrus would be playing a big part in our near future back in December. We were trying to settle on a design for our annual Christmas card and we ended up going with a photograph featuring a clementine orange. Clementines come like a godsend here in Montreal in December, when suddenly our local grocery stores are flooded with crates of the Moroccan variety—they’re one of the things that help us make it through Quebec’s winters—but we were also inspired by the fact that oranges used to be among the most cherished of Christmas gifts in Eastern Europe not so long ago.

aj