It was suggested that we have pizza last night. Quick recap:
proofing the yeast seemed to work well, even though I wasn’t sure anything was happening. Why don’t I just use instant yeast? Is there a reason to use traditional yeast? Googling will follow
Pizza bianco was delightful. Boiled potatoes, taleggio cheese, bit of this, some of that. Tasty
Followed up by a margherita with some leftover salami. Not bad.
Kids ate it all, which is the acid test for any made-at-home meal.
We have had a few choice items hoisted at us over the last little while. It was great to get a decent meal on the table without too much trouble.
https://dontcrowdthepan.ca/wp-content/uploads/2020/05/Dont_Crowd_Logo_new-1.png00Alastairhttps://dontcrowdthepan.ca/wp-content/uploads/2020/05/Dont_Crowd_Logo_new-1.pngAlastair2020-06-08 13:51:242020-06-08 13:51:25Pizza. More pizza
This is a theme that I’ll return to again and again, I fear. Namely, how important is the equipment you use in the kitchen? Hang on, that’s not quite right. The equipment is super-important – try cooking without even the most rudimentary gear. What I mean by that is when one asks the age-old question:
“If I buy this piece of gear, will it make me a better cook, or should I stay with what I have?
The answer, of course, is ‘yes’. Because shiny new things are great. We all know, however, that being a better cook is more about cooking than what you use to cook with.
In my other life I work as a photographer. And the siren song of new cameras, compelling me to buy new gear is incessant and almost impossible to ignore.
But struggle against it I must – for any number of reasons:
It’s expensive.
It makes you a better cook right up until it doesn’t, which for me happens nearly immediately.
It is prettier, but popularity contests don’t do much to get dinner on the table.
It sometimes doesn’t work as well as the original piece of equipment.
I had a 9-inch French knife that my mom bought me when I was married. For 20 years I used it practically every day – didn’t give it any thought… Until it got to the point that it had been sharpened so many times the blade no longer reliably chopped. The hilt of the blade was proud of the edge of the knife and it made for some awful chopping.
So I bought a new knife, a cool one. Different shape.
I hate it. Well, I don’t hate it – it’s a great knife, but I don’t love it like the old one. I mean, my mom didn’t give me the new one, but I don’t think that’s why. I thought I would like the new technology and I found I didn’t really care for the upgrade. I’m searching for a new knife, or maybe I’ll just grind the old one down and see how that goes.
As for these beaters, the ones in the photo. As far as I know, they’re still going strong at my mother-in-law’s house… And they’re a far sight better than the new set she has. They have better speed control, they’re better balanced and you can’t beat that retro styling.
They do make a ton of noise and I fear they might not last forever, but I’ll use them until they die.
They certainly don’t make them like they used to. In some cases that’s a good thing, like in the case of automobiles. But when it comes to kitchen implements, I’m more of a traditionalist, even if ‘tradition’ is a set of beaters or a knife from a few decades ago.
https://dontcrowdthepan.ca/wp-content/uploads/2020/05/Dont_Crowd_Logo_new-1.png00Alastairhttps://dontcrowdthepan.ca/wp-content/uploads/2020/05/Dont_Crowd_Logo_new-1.pngAlastair2020-06-05 09:37:012020-06-05 09:37:03They Don’t Make Them Like They Used To.
Coffee at the lake. First thing in the morning. Best part of a great day.
Coffee at the Lake is really rather strange. My mother used to talk about how, when we were kids, the tea at the lake (different lake, but same idea) always tasted better than it did at home. My mom was not a huge fan of the lake, (especially when it poured with rain for the two weeks we spent there one summer) but she does know a good cup of tea.
Right. Coffee. Lake. One year (last year or the one before) I took a notion to upgrade the coffee at the lake by buying, in order, a Moka coffee pot and then an Aeropress coffee maker. My mother-in-law generally just makes it in a perk pot. You know, half a cup of ground coffee in the filter part… let it come to the boil and then perk for 7 minutes – as if, somehow, 8 minutes of boiling coffee would make it terrible and 6 minutes wouldn’t be enough. Reminds me of the scene from Monty Python and the Holy Grail when they are reading instructions about the Holy hand Grenade of Anioch from the Book of Armaments (4:16-20)
“Then did he raise on high the Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch, saying, “Bless this, O Lord, that with it thou mayst blow thine enemies to tiny bits, in thy mercy.” And the people did rejoice and did feast upon the lambs and toads and tree-sloths and fruit-bats and orangutans and breakfast cereals … Now did the Lord say, “First thou pullest the Holy Pin. Then thou must count to three. Three shall be the number of the counting and the number of the counting shall be three. Four shalt thou not count, neither shalt thou count two, excepting that thou then proceedeth to three. Five is right out. Once the number three, being the number of the counting, be reached, then lobbest thou the Holy Hand Grenade in the direction of thine foe, who, being naughty in my sight, shall snuff it.”
Now I’m REALLY getting off topic. Perk coffee sucks at the best of times.
But at the lake not only is it palatable, it’s really rather good. In fact, my sister-in-law, who is nearly as much of a coffee snob as I am (OK, probably not possible, but…) prefers the perk coffee to my Aeropress coffee or the Moka.
I was out at the lake this weekend opening up the cabin. Setting up the water; pulling out solar cells; general spring cleaning… That sort of thing. Betty made some coffee from last year’s coffee – it had sat in the cabin over the winter. Since August at least – or 9 months.
Wasn’t that good. What they say about fresh coffee is absolutely true. But here’s the kicker. It was perfectly drinkable, even black, and I was yet again amazed at how good a cup of coffee can be at the lake.
Not so much the phone (which is great) but what it’s sitting on.
I’m on a vintage kick. I have been on one for the last three decades, so I’m rather used to it, but…
The ringer on this phone could wake the dead. It was epic. You can see how the new phone number was added when the phone was moved from one house to the next – who takes a phone with them when they move? Well, if you’re my grandmother-in-law, you do. The new number was added in her careful script in 1979. She passed away in 2010 and I have no idea where the phone is now. Hopefully still causing regular heart-attacks when it rings – and confounding young and old with how to actually use it.
For the purposes of this blog, though, I want to talk about what the phone is sitting on. It’s a TV tray. I’m not entirely sure what the actual origins of a TV tray are, but it’s my understanding that people would eat their pre-made TV dinners in front of the television and they needed something they could easily pull up so they could dine in comfort, and have somewhere to put their drink – if it was my grandmother-in-law it was a rye and fizzy grapefruit soda. Poured liberally. Bit of ice. Don’t knock it, she lived to 94.
But I digress. The TV table was a flimsy, lightweight ‘solution’ to the boon that was TV dinners. I wasn’t around in the 1950s when they were invented, but I have it on good authority that they were pretty awful and haven’t improved much in the ensuing years. Regardless, there is an entire aisle in the frozen food section of my grocery store devoted to pre-made meals, so even if they are awful, they’re still popular.
I do think it’s interesting that furniture was created so we could eat dinner in front of the TV, rather than at the dining room table or kitchen. And I also think it’s interesting that the technology to eat in front of the TV has gone from this to just holding it on our laps. We have regressed, furniture-wise but the pre-made meals are better. Who would have seen that coming?
Don’t forget to collect the shells and put them where they belong. No, not there. Yes, there.
Here in Betty’s kitchen there is always something to snack on. It’s pretty dangerous, but when we come to visit, we are allowed to not eat all the pistachios, apparently. I struggle to keep my hands out of the bowl, though.
If I were a younger man, I would be reaching for the muffins in another bowl, but I can resist those these days.
It’s hard being in someone else’s kitchen, especially if you want to cook. I have known my mother-in-law for 25 years and she has always had this kitchen. It underwent a fairly big renovation a few years back but the mixing bowls are still in the same place they have been for ever. And yet, I struggle to remember where they are.
I’m out of place here. The coffee is different, the ingredients are different and in different spots (see above). The Drawer of Requirement is still the same, though. Every kitchen has one of those.
But we have created epic meals here over the years, she and I (and my wife, other family members). I have had a lot of fun and there is a ton of history here, at least for me and I’m sure everyone else in the family.
So I can tolerate (barely, but that’s my inner-snob talking) my mother-in-law’s choice of coffee, and the fact that when she renovated her kitchen she didn’t put in a heated floor so the tile in the wintertime feels like you’re wandering around on 18-inch square blocks of ice. I can also overlook the fact that she has never had a toaster and she uses a toaster-oven to toast bread, which takes forever and regularly sets off the smoke alarms. Don’t get me started on her dull knives or the fact that her non-stick pans are ‘still good’ more than a decade after they stopped being non-stick.
I can tolerate all that (not that it’s much, really – and let’s be honest here – she is perfectly happy with the kitchen the way it is)
It’s easy to tolerate because of that bowl of pistachios. The one that is always on the counter, saying, “welcome”, and “dig in” and “lower right corner, next to the baking pans. How long have I known you? How many hours have you spent in this place?”
My wife introduced me to huckleberries a long time ago. Well, the first summer after we met – which was, admittedly, a long time ago.
Actually, that’s not quite true – she didn’t introduce me to huckleberries, she introduced me to alpine huckleberries. The huckleberries I was used to are coastal – bright red, taste like not much of anything, are really tart and full of seeds. I eat them when I run in the forest. Grab a few as I go by… I couldn’t imagine making a pie from them.
I preferred blueberries, anyway.
But the pie. Let’s talk about pie. Betty is my mother-in-law and makes a mean huckleberry pie. And she does it the same way every time. (why mess with perfection, really?)
She has this ancient cookbook with the lemon juice pastry recipe (right next to the Lard Pastry recipe). She pulls an old ice cream bucket of huckleberries out of the freezer… Throws in a bit of this and a bit of that, some sugar, lemon, eye of newt…
Not sure if she used this recipe, but few cookbooks have been as loved as this one has.
And fires it in the oven, forgets to set the timer (true story) wanders back into the kitchen at exactly the right time, pulls the pie out.
Perfection. I think that this pie – the one from last night – is quite possibly the best huckleberry pie I have ever had. I have no idea what the difference was between it and the others I have had before, but this one was spectacular.
https://dontcrowdthepan.ca/wp-content/uploads/2020/05/Dont_Crowd_Logo_new-1.png00Alastairhttps://dontcrowdthepan.ca/wp-content/uploads/2020/05/Dont_Crowd_Logo_new-1.pngAlastair2020-06-01 07:53:082020-06-01 07:53:08Huckleberry Pie
I was asked to photograph Doreen McKenzie Sanders quite some time ago. She was, by this time, in her 80s and she was a delight to spend the afternoon with. I’m not sure who had the idea of photographing her with an ice cream cone – the store was a regular haunt with her, it would turn out – maybe she had the idea.
The shoot was fine – one of my best images came from it that day. It’s still in my portfolio easily 15 years later.
…but I want to talk about the ice cream for a moment. I want to talk about how we all have our favourites. When we went to shoot Doreen had the strawberry she is pictured with here. In fact, we had to have 2 cones to finish the shoot. She was allowed to eat the second one. Strawberry has never been my favourite ice cream flavour. Not by a long shot. I like strawberries and everything, but more in the context of breakfast. My ice cream choices are either salted caramel or raspberry cheesecake. My older daughter, who actually works in an ice cream store, would gag at those flavours, while chomping on Mango. My wife might agree with my older daughter, unless there is hazelnut in the store. My younger daughter? Well, when she was younger it was bubblegum. Now I’m not sure.
Regardless. We all have our favourites. And we are all convinced that our favourite is the best and that all the others pale in comparison. Food can be like that. Heck, life is like that but at least with food it’s generally a lot less problematic.
I’m sure there are people who don’t like watermelon. Just like there are some people who don’t like coffee or tomatoes. They’re strange and probably untrustworthy, but what can you do?
However, for the rest of us, there are some universals. Watermelon is a universal. Put out a plate with kids and it vanishes in a cacophony of slurps and drips. If the older, non-seedless version of watermelon is involved, expect seeds to be spat at each other. Or flicked.
All bad behaviour is forgiven, though. Because it’s kids eating fruit. Raw. And here’s the kicker – I was listening to a radio show on the most nutritious fruit. Obviously guava came first, but second? Watermelon. The interviewer commented to the scientist that he thought watermelon was like flavoured water. The scientist agreed and was as surprised anyone how well it fared.
So, not only is it kids voluntarily eating fruit. It’s kids voluntarily eating really nutritious fruit. The perfect situation. Too bad it seems to happen so rarely. One always hopes that soon the kids will be banging back shucked oysters or eating a quinoa salad without any complaint, but while one is hoping for that, one might as well buy a lottery ticket and ask Santa for a Pony.
https://dontcrowdthepan.ca/wp-content/uploads/2020/05/Dont_Crowd_Logo_new-1.png00Alastairhttps://dontcrowdthepan.ca/wp-content/uploads/2020/05/Dont_Crowd_Logo_new-1.pngAlastair2020-05-28 10:21:122020-05-28 10:21:13Some things are universal
Just don’t put them in the dishwasher, and they’ll last forever. Seriously. Knives, wooden spoons, measuring cups – all need to be washed by hand.
And they’ll last pretty much forever. This photo reminds me that I need a couple of smaller measuring cups. I have the metal ones for dry ingredients, but these glass ones are indispensable for a lot of cooking. The retro look of them doesn’t hurt, either.
But you have to wash them by hand. If you put them in the dishwasher after a while all of the lettering just rubs off. You can still see it, but if you’re like me (as in, your eyesight isn’t what it used to be) pretty soon it’ll be too hard to read the measurements. And then you’ll make a mistake. Not that I would know, or anything.
My current 4-cup measure is too big, except for large amounts. My current 2-cup measure is from my mom, and it’s Tupperware, which is fine… But plastic gets trashed in a kitchen pretty quickly and I do like the glass – if for no other reason than it’s easy to see what’s in there and how much is in there.
Kitchens deserve good tools. Heck, everyone deserves good tools and thankfully these measuring cups aren’t very expensive. I’m sure you could find a super-pricey set on some website, somewhere, but these are just fine. Preferable, in fact.
And it’s darn hard to break them, too. It’s possible, but not easy.
The grain elevator in Dorothy is pretty darn cool. Check out those hills in the distance! I was driving by with my brother-in-law a few years back and we just had to pull over to take a photo. As far as I know, it’s still there and in OK shape.
But it brings up a question – one I can’t answer here given my lack of time to write, but one that I’ll pose anyway – how many of us actually know where our food comes from? In this case the grain was taken from the fields right nearby and then stored until the train showed up. Then (I believe) it was brought by truck to the elevator and the conveyor in the elevator would bring the grain up and fill the railcars. At least that’s my understanding. This elevator isn’t for storage – it’s for loading rail cars.
Then it would get moved off to market. There are all kinds of other themes here, too – transport, pooling of product, monocultures, organic farming (or the lack thereof)… The fact that it’s near-impossible to grow just a little bit of wheat and deal with it in any profitable way given the way the modern food markets work…
I took the photo for a number of reasons – namely that it was a really interesting view and I’m always worried that these vestiges will pass quietly away before they can be documented. I didn’t really take any time to think of the actual use of it until I wrote this post. Form following function, but beautiful nonetheless.
https://dontcrowdthepan.ca/wp-content/uploads/2020/05/Dont_Crowd_Logo_new-1.png00Alastairhttps://dontcrowdthepan.ca/wp-content/uploads/2020/05/Dont_Crowd_Logo_new-1.pngAlastair2020-05-26 10:28:582020-05-26 10:32:00Where does this food come from, anyway?
