Quickie Sickie Soup

We've all been in this situation. You're at the office and you feel something creeping up on you, veery gradually... You find yourself tuckered out before lunchtime, despite the fact that you've only been reading and answering e-mail all morning; your head starts hurting just a bit; your sinuses sneakily puff up, and your neck starts giving you just a hint of soreness. Yup. That's the flu trying to get a hold of you, all right. Aaaaaaargh! Nooooo! You patiently wait for the day to be over, and then ooze your way home for some all important nip-it-in-the-bud sleep. But before you hit the sheets, what can you have for dinner that's fast, zero-effort and involves the almighty flu-stopping chicken broth? Quickie Sickie Soup, of course.

I've made this soup more times than I can remember. Not only does it serve as an easy tummy-warmer / flu-killer; I've also been known to make this for lunch when friends drop by unexpectedly, and there's nothing more to serve them than my barest larder staples. This isn't Cordon Bleu, folks. But hey - it's good for what ails 'ya. And if you have it with a piece of cheese and a bit of bread, you've got all the food groups covered.

Quickie Sickie Soup

The following is the At Death's Door version of the recipe. Feel free to add more ingredients if you have the time or strength; just make sure to up the amount of stock if you do, or else you'll end up with a stew instead of a soup. Note : all of these measurements are approximations, because when you're sick, you can't be bothered to use measuring cups. 

• 4 cups (1 litre) of chicken stock / broth / whatever chickeny liquid you've got lying around. For this specific example, I used a 900 ml carton of organic broth. Hey man, that's all I had!
• 2 carrots, grated with a box grater (1 to 1 1/2 cup).
• Half a bag of tiny red lentils (the bags I buy are 450g) - that translates to about 3/4 cup-ish. Put them in a colander and rinse them a bit under the tap to remove any grit.

Step 1: heat the broth in a pot and bring it to a boil.

Step 2: throw in the lentils and the carrots. Bring the soup to a simmer and keep it that way for about 5 minutes, stirring once or twice to make sure the lentils don't stick to the bottom.

Step 3: taste the soup. If the lentils are soft, and the carrots are cooked, it's done. Add some salt and pepper if necessary (I didn't - the boxed broth was salty enough, and pepper would have tickled my precious little sickie throat).

Step 4: eat the soup with a bit of cheese. Leave the dishes for tomorrow. Go to bed.

Feel better!

The anti-takeout.

We've all had nights when the responsibility of even thinking of something to make for dinner - much less actually making it - was the equivalent of being told to climb Mount Everest, in four inch heels, with 30 lb packs of rocks on our backs. Ugh. You know you've been there.

I was actually there three times last week; coming home late, out of steam, mentally drained... I was terrified. In such times of weakness, it would have been so easy to ask Marc to stop by the St-Hubert drive-thru for a chicken dinner with fries and gravy... Lord... That would have been good. But we had to eat something better than that. On that first evening, Mere would be coming by to go for a run, and I needed proper fuel. Not a cheap, greasy thrill.

So it's with that need for a speedy fill-up in mind that I thought of pasta. Pasta's fast, especially when you have some tomato sauce waiting in the freezer. But I didn't have any tomato sauce in my freezer. Damn. What the heck was I going to feed myself and my hungry man? I had some 35% cream in the fridge, but making a sauce with it would have been very, very wrong. That got me thinking, though. Do you know what else is creamy? Beans! Off to the larder I went, and whipped up a sauce in a jiffy. Because this sauce didn't require any cooking, it was ready by the time the pasta was done! On nights like these, I bless the day Marc got me a food processor as a "just because" gift. That man knows me so well...

Speedy and fresh spinach and white bean pasta sauce with Parmesan and lemon

(Feeds four, no leftovers)

Step 1: fire up a pot of water, salt it when it starts to boil, and throw in a 450 g package of pasta (any kind will do - I chose spaghetti this time). Tip: to achieve perfect flavour in your pasta, the cooking water should be as salty as the Mediterranean. Go ahead, taste it before you throw in the pasta. Nobody will judge you! 

Step 2: while your pasta cooks, put the following ingredients in your food processor and blitz:

• 1 can of white beans, drained

• 3 big handfuls of fresh baby spinach
• zest of 1/2 lemon (add more after blitzing, if you want a more lemony taste)

• 1/2 to 3/4 cup fresh parmesan chunks that you've chipped off using a butter knife (matchbook- sized pieces), or pre-grated parmesan (just not the sawdust kind from the green canister, for the love of all things holy!)

• enough olive oil to make everything whizz around smoothly (between 1/4 and 1/2 cup)
• salt and pepper to taste (might want to add this after everything's been blitzed).

Step 3: scoop a cupful of the pasta water out with a coffee mug and set aside. Drain the pasta, return it to the cooking pot and pour the pasta sauce over top. Mix everything quickly, adding some of the pasta water if the sauce needs to be smoother. Serve immediately with a drizzle of olive oil over everything. Et voilà!

Sweet potato eviction complete

I did it! I won! The sweet potato is no more. What did I do with it, you ask? I steamed it in the microwave and threw it in a salad! Gimme a break - it had to be a salad. We overindulged during the Holidays.

You have to understand that the microwave has very limited use in our house. In my opinion, it's good for warming up your lunch, melting chocolate (thanks, Nigella, for that one), heating up milk or water (to lukewarm, not boiling, please), and for softening tortillas. So talk about a discovery when my laziness, triggered by my complete disgust at having to clean a pot AND a steamer in order to cook 1/3 of a sweet potato, caused me to experiment.  I simply cut the sweet potato into small bite sized pieces, set it in a dinner plate with barely 1/4 inch of water on the bottom and cooked it for 3ish minutes, turning the pieces over halfway. And whaddaya know! It worked!

Talk about a quick meal. I chucked some baby greens in a bowl, topped them with some brown rice left over from a previous dinner, a handful of sunflower seeds (a fridge-larder staple!) and the potato, and tossed everything with a simple balsamic vinaigrette (balsamic, dijon, olive oil). Poof. Done. 

Well THAT felt good. Nice knowin' ya, sweet potato. Boy... I'm going to have to get to know my microwave better... The possibilities! Stay tuned!

The sweet potato that wouldn't die...

The holidays have come and gone, and I think most of us are just fed up with trying to find ways to reinvent the leftovers. Sadly, that work is never done - for me, anyway... Every single day of the year, some food item is guaranteed to be staring back at me from the inside of my fridge, taunting me with the ever present threat of spoilage. Is today its last day before mouldy grossness takes it over the edge into the realm of the inedible? Aiiiiiiigh! The never ending danger of decay is enough to drive a person insane. I hate throwing out food.

I've been having this sort of crisis lately with a sweet potato that's been in my crisper for the past month and a half. Every day, I see it. And every day, something comes up and I can't use it (or don't feel inspired to). It's started to shrivel a bit, just to remind me that time is ticking, and that the money spent on a nice organic sweet potato is about to be wasted. When I picked it up on Monday, a shrivelled part of it had actually gone soft and my thumb kind of sunk into it a bit. Ew. That's when I knew it was now or never. 

Thankfully, I had five or six boiled potatoes left over from our New Years' eve party à deux. And what does one instantly think of when one has a load of cold boiled potatoes? Potato salad! Of course, none of my resolutions included being less lazy, so I didn't bother to boil the sweet potato (it would have had a weird shape anyway, once the soft gross bits had been cut out); I just grated that bad boy down to shreds. Well, part of him, anyway. Here's what happened.

Potato salad with grainy mustard vinaigrette, sweet potato shreds and chives (feeds two)

This is a recipe that's easy on the dishes. All you need is a salad bowl, a knife, a cutting board and, if you must, a garlic press.

In the salad bowl, whisk together :

• 1 tbsp Dijon mustard
• 1 generous tbsp grainy mustard
• 2 tbsp white wine vinegar
• one minced clove of garlic 
• 1/4 to 1/3 cup of olive oil (or more, if you like)
• salt and pepper.

To that dressing, add :

• 5 or 6 cooked potatoes, cut into bite-sized pieces 
• 1 good bunch of asparagus (like the ones they sell tied together with a rubber band), cooked al-dente in a steamer and cut into bite-sized pieces
• a few tbsp of finely chopped herbs such as chives, mint, parsley or dill (I had chives lying around from making mashed potatoes at Christmas, so I used chives)
• 1 cup of grated sweet potato

Stir around delicately and voilà. Serve with a few pieces of cheese or a boiled egg on the side.

Of course, that recipe only used up a third of the dammed, rotting, cursed sweet potato. So tonight, I went ahead and made another salad with more stuff that was lying around the fridge. And this time, I dealt with another food straggler: old pita... Have you ever had this problem, where you buy pita for a hummus fix, but then the leftover bread just sits around your fridge for days on end, because it's become too old and tough to enjoy? Solution? Pita chips! They're super easy to make, and no matter who's around at mealtime, they'll be excited to eat them. If Marc could orbit the stove when I make these, I think he would; sadly, the wall behind the stove prevents full orbiting, so all he can do is stick his face in the oven window and keep repeating over and over "I think they're ready now. I think they're ready now. I think they're ready now." Gaaaah!

So here's the how-to for pita chips:

1. Cut the edge off your pitas by going around them with a knife or clean scissors. Eat the edges or give them to the dogs. Separate the two sides of the pita and lay them on a baking sheet with the inside surface facing up.

2. If you have a pastry brush, use it to give each pita circle a light brushing of olive oil. If you don't have a pastry brush, just pour a bit of olive oil (using a thin stream) all over the pitas and then smear it around with your hands.

3. Add whatever flavour you want. Dried herbs (oregano's nice), spices (smoked paprika anyone? curry?), salts (garlic salt, celery salt). Pepper's also highly recommended, and salt, if you're not using any of the garlic or onion variety. For this specific time, I used salt, pepper and sumac.

4. Pop the baking sheet on the middle rack of your the oven, which has been set to Broil. WATCH THEM CLOSELY. They burn in a heartbeat. Seriously. Heart... (still okay)... beat (crap! burnt!)

5. When they're nice and brown and crispy, take them out of the oven. Break them up if you wish. Enjoy.

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Aaaah! Now that the pita chips are out of the way, back to the sweet potato from hell. Here's tonight's salad, with thanks to the larder, as usual, for the beans.

Curried creamy navy bean and shredded sweet potato salad with hard-boiled egg and pita chips (feeds two, with leftovers)

Boil up a few hard-boiled eggs (I made three for two people). While they cool, combine the following in a bowl :

• 1 can of white navy beans or white kidney beans, rinsed
• a few tbsp chopped fresh herbs like mint, dill or chives (I still had some damned chives, so I used chives)
• 1 cup of grated sweet potato

In another bowl, combine : (I did it this way, but you can definitely make this part first in the big salad bowl and save yourself some dishes)

• approx. 3/4 cup of plain yogourt (not low-fat)
• 1 scant tsp of curry powder
• 1 scant tsp of honey
• juice of 1/4 lime (approx. 1 tbsp); add more if not tangy enough
• salt

Serve the bean salad on a bed of baby greens with the sliced egg on top. Enjoy with your freshly baked pita chips.

Pfff. Only 1/3 of the sweet potato to go! It lives to die another day...

Until we meet again, Crisper squatter.

Soup. A hot-water bottle for your insides.

Soup is making a comeback in my kitchen. I used to be annoyed by it. I didn't like how I couldn't control my intake of food; how I was a prisoner of the tiny portion doled out by every spoonful, never able to take in more at a time without putting the bowl to my mouth and making a complete and disgraceful pig of myself. Eating soup, restrictive spoonful by restrictive spoonful, made me irritable. I wanted FREEDOM!

Sadly, short of filling a turkey baster and squirting my way to satiation, I had to find another way to live with the cutlery conventions of our day. That's when I discovered texture. I'm not talking chunky-vegetable-soup kind of texture here. I'm talking smooth, dense, mouthfeel all the way into tomorrow kind of texture. The kind I only experienced once I started looking for a vegetarian meal-in-a-pot soup solution. The spoon would still deliver the same, annoying portion with every pass... But this time, the texture of its payload would insure that the flavour and experience would endure; keeping my taste buds distracted long enough for the spoon to make its next delivery...

There are two main heroes in the category of texture for me, when it comes to whole-meal-in-a-pot soups: beans and tofu. Of course, 35% cream also fits in this category (for glooorious mushroom soup), but that's just cheating. 35% cream makes EVERYTHING taste good. So next time you set out to make a cream soup, try throwing in a can of white kidney beans or a block of silken tofu before you plunge in your immersion blender. I assure you, you'll be glad you did. 

I made the following soup the other night when it was dark and blustery outside. I was cold, and not really in the mood for making anything fancy. I found the last butternut squash from my garden as well as a few leeks at the back of the fridge, and a can of beans in the larder. Soup it is, I thought. And I was glad. That stuff stuck to my insides like Fiberglass Pink. Mmmm. Insulating.

Butternut squash soup with leeks and white kidney beans

Prep your ingredients:

1 medium-sized butternut squash, roughly chopped into chunks (see picture);

2 leeks, green parts discarded, white parts split lengthwise, thoroughly rinsed (dirt always manages to get in there) and chopped into half moons;

1 medium onion, chopped;

1 can of white kidney beans, drained and rinsed;

4 thyme sprigs, leaves plucked, or 1 tsp of dried thyme (or more, if you like).

Heat a stockpot or a big saucepan over medium heat. Once it's hot, throw in around 2 tbsp of olive oil or, if you're not focused on making this vegan, a matchbox sized piece of butter and just a dab of olive oil (1 tsp) to prevent burning.Throw in the onion and the leeks, and cook, stirring, until translucent.

Throw in the squash, and cook, stirring for 2 or 3 minutes. Add the thyme leaves and bare sprigs. Pour in enough cold water to cover everything, with a half-inch extra over the top of the veggies. I used some cooking water from my freezer that was left over from boiling potatoes and celery root.  Bring to a simmer and cook until the squash is soft.

Remove the thyme sprigs and add the kidney beans.

Whizz the soup into oblivion with an immersion blender or a regular blender. If you use a regular blender, do this part in batches to avoid overspilling and burns.Season with salt and pepper and serve with crusty bread, and some sharp and tangy cheese.

I hope you enjoy this soup. I'm getting hungry just looking at the pictures.

See you next post!

Papillote, je t'aime

Marc's working late tonight. I'm by myself, but that's no reason to settle for a martini with toast and peanut butter. As far as I'm concerned, if I've got a half-full bottle of leftover rosé, a minimally stocked larder, and some jazz on Espace Musique with the mesmorizing Stanley Péan, I'm set for a good time. So after rooting through the fridge and finding a few viable veggies, I grab the piece of cod that I'd remembered to pull from the freezer before heading out to the office, and I set to work on my fish en papillotte.

I love this technique. It's so simple, it's nearly equivalent to pouring yourself a bowl of cereal for dinner, but oh, is it ever so much more satisfying. Cooking fish en papillote basically means that you're cooking it in a parchment pocket... It's a recipe that has only two rules: 1) cut all of your vegetables thinly enough that they can cook in the same time as the fish (approx. 10 minutes for a 1/2 inch thick piece), and 2) only use fresh ingredients for the best flavour - there's nowhere to hide when you're cooking with paper.

Today, I've found half of a tiny red cabbage, a carrot and some baby spinach in my fridge, so that's what's going into the papillote, along with paper-thin half-moon slices of onion. But honestly, if it's a vegetable and you can slice it thin, it's good for the papillote. Potatoes, asparagus, zucchini, beet, baby bok choy, celery, sprouts, fresh or dried herbs, lemon slices, la la laaaaaaaaa! Anything! Just slice up enough veggies to make one dinner plate-full per pocket. If you're eating alone (and there's nothing wrong with that!), then you're probably okay with 3/4 cup of cabbage, one potato, one carrot, one hefty handful of baby spinach and 1/4 to 1/2 cup of thinly sliced onion. You get the picture, right?

The method is simple enough. Cut a large piece of parchment paper and fold it in half (I like to play it safe and start with a piece of parchment roughly 50 cm long). Then, remember your scissor skills from kindergarten, and cut the paper so you get a heart shape when you unfold it (see the picture at the top of this post). On one half of the parchment heart, lay down the tougher vegetables and the onions. I find that when they're on the bottom the stack, the juices from the fish and other veggies help them steam a bit more intensely (this is my own thinking - this may not actually be what happens. I wouldn't know. My papillote-cam is still on backorder.)

Once your base of tougher vegetables and onions has been laid down, go ahead and place a little nub of butter there to add a bit of flavour. If you want to keep this super virtuous, skip the butter. Season this layer with salt and pepper and then lay the fish on top. Season the fish, place another nub of butter on top of the fish and then top it with the rest of the veggies (I shred the carrots with a box grater to keep them thin). At this point, if you haven't used butter, give the whole stack a good splash of olive oil.

Close up the papillote by folding the paper heart in half. Starting at the bottom end of the heart, crimp the edges by folding them over and over until you get to the top end of the heart. The goal is to fold the edges tightly enough so steam doesn't escape. I know this can seem scary, but just wing it. I've been known to weigh the pocket down with muffin tins to keep it sealed as it bakes. There is no shame when it comes to cooking in paper. If you want, you can also youtube this technique for pointers.

 

Once you're done folding, scootch the papillote onto a baking sheet, bake in a preheated 350 F oven for 10 minutes (for a piece of fish about 1/2 inch thick) and poof! You're done. Serve with a quick starch like couscous if you haven't included potatoes in the papillote. And there you go! Enjoy! I did.

Ta!

My ample larder, part deux

It's friggin' freezing today! It's too cold to putter around outside, looking for remains of food in my garden (I see you, surviving purple bean!). So I'm blogging instead.

Ah, Second-larder-also-known-as-my-fridge, how I love thee. With your gleaming (albeit fingerprint riddled) steel doors, you are like a vault that keeps my most treasured possessions safe (note to potential thiefs - I'm talking about FOOD here. There are no diamonds or wads of Bordens in my icebox!) Fridgie, you indulge my every whim; you keep that fourteen pound Christmas ham with as much care and tenderness as you do my fluffy Boston lettuce. You take in my latest stinky cheese discovery with the grace of a perfect hostess, and you never, ever rebuke me for spilling yogurt, pickle juice, or half-flat San Pellegrino on your gleaming shelves. I love you, Fridgie. Let's stay together forever. Or until the warranty no longer covers repairs to your compressor.

There it is. Our fridge. In case you're wondering, that brown
ribbon is to help Marc and I remember to empty the
dehumidifier. Hey man, whatever works, right?

Yes, my fridge is always there to keep the flavours-of-the-moment safe. But like a true friend, it is also my dependable arsenal no matter how far I am from grocery day, or how far we are from the next paycheck (gulp!) When used in combination with my dry-goods larder, the skeleton crew of staples in my fridge continually amazes with its capacity to crank out satisfying meals with ease and versatility. Let's get down to details, shall we?

Can you tell I'm holding the door open with my right foot?
Ah, the behind-the-scenes drama... Why do I betray the glamour?!

First, sauces and condiments : aside from the mayo, these usually keep for a very long time, which allows you to accumulate a good collection of flavour inspiration. Seriously, sometimes, when I don't know what to make, I stand in front of my open fridge door, pick a jar and run with it. Figuratively speaking, of course - not as in "There goes that wierd neighbour-lady, sprinting down the street with a bottle of fish sauce again... That's it. Call the cops!"

Here's a quick overview of what I try to always have on hand.

• Mustards: yes, they get a category all of their own. I always have Costco-sized jars of Dijon and grainy mustard, along with an eternally-keeping squeeze bottle of yellow mustard (a must for enjoying an italian-sausage dog. Please don't judge me.) I also have a nice collection of obsessively purchased Kozlik's and Mrs. McGarrigle's, but those aren't essential. Nevertheless, if you're going to be stranded on a desert island, why sleep in the sand if you floated in on a crate filled with duvet pillows and comforters? Even more importantly, does that analogy even make sense? Anyhoo, mustards are useful for making vinaigrettes, for adding to sauces (check out the one I made for the hanger steak), for sandwiches and for dips (try whisking together a generous tablespoon of Dijon with some olive oil until loose dipping consistency is reached, add some super-finely sliced shallot or onion and some finely chopped parlsey, season with salt and voilà! a suprising dip for blanched green beans, asparagus or snap peas). 
• Stir-fry basics: these become very handy when you need to get rid of some veggies before they start going limp. I find that with the following, I can whip up a satisfying stir-fry anytime: soy sauce (fermented, like Kikkoman), black bean sauce, fish sauce, hoisin sauce and oyster sauce. You can use the black bean, hoisin and oyster sauce just before taking the stir-fry off the heat, just to give it a nice flavourful sauciness (use one, two or all three sauces - crazy!) The fish sauce is for making thai-inspired stir-fries, dipping sauces, or just to give steamed vegetables a lovely je-ne-sais-quoi (use sparingly!) The soy sauce... I don't think you need instructions for that, do you? Use anywhere. ANYwhere. And last but not least, tamarind paste. You can't kill that stuff, and it's magical. Try this larder-approved Nigella Lawson recipe for Keralan Fish Curry, with your smartly stowed frozen fish!
• The rest: mayo, fig jam (for vinaigrettes and warm sauces - throw a bit in with the Dijon cream sauce and enjoy the compliments), leftover wine (for braising) and curry pastes.

Although they don't keep as long as French's mustard, there are also some fresh and preserved foods that can be at the ready in your fridge / freezer. You just have to stay on top of their best-before dates, bacteria-have-won-the-battle deadlines and rot-factors. Here they are:

• The fresh: you can buy them in the produce aisle, but they have fantastic staying power. They're the kind of food you'll find at the back of the fridge four weeks after buying it, and you'll exclaim: well I'll be damned! It's still good!
• Cabbage: red and green for braises or coleslaw. Try Jamie Oliver's red cabbage braised in balsamic, or Laura Calder's super easy butter braised Savoy cabbage (I've converted many a cabbage hater with this one - perfect and superfast for when company drops by unexpectedly).
• Organic baby spinach: for salads, pestos, omelets, frittata, chickpea galette, fish en papillote, or just for sautéeing in butter with a dash of nutmeg, salt and pepper. Mmmmmmmmm.
• Root vegetables and squash: the indestructables. Carrots, parsnip, rutabaga, butternut, acorn. Roast them, boil them, whizz them up in a cream soup, shred them for a salad, drown them in a cheese sauce or mash them and give them a quick broil with a crust of breadcrumbs and parmesan.
• Ginger: for stir fries, vinaigrettes, baking, flavouring (ex: soups and purées) and for steeping in hot water on those I-feel-gross days.
• Apples, oranges, pears, lemons and limes: for eating as-is, for adding to savoury dishes and desserts, salads, or for flavouring sauces and vinaigrettes. And zest! Never underestimate the power of the zest.
• The preserved: I think I've talked enough about my cornichons to hint at how much I depend on my pickles and other preserved foods. For serving to guests while I prepare dinner, or for garnishing drinks, they're always there to save the day when time doesn't allow for a stop at the grocery store AND cleaning the bathroom (choose wisely...) Usually, pickled onions (I've discovered cipollini in balsamic vinegar *slobber*), Maille's French cornichons and some Kalamata olives keep me confident that things will be okay. Add some maraschino cherries and pimiento olives for cocktails, and you're all set. Serve with those chips and pretzels from the dry-goods larder.
• The dairy: plain full-fat yogourt and eggs (besides the obvious milk and soy milk.) The yogurt can be used for dips, dressings (ranch, anyone?) and sauces (it keeps longer than 35% cream, is a bit more heart-healthy and just as tasty). The eggs, well, there's a saying that the folds in a chef's hat represent all the ways an egg can be prepared, so I'll not endeavour to list their uses here. Mmmmm. Eggs. 
• The frozen: always ready to go, the foods in your freezer are your secret weapon. I try to keep a good stock of frozen veggies like broccoli florets and corn nibblets, frozen fresh legumes when I can find them, frozen blueberries for muffins, breakfast and impromptu desserts, fish (it defrosts in a day, if you can remember to put it in the fridge before leaving for work), meats, spare bread loaves, chicken stock and vegetable cooking water (don't throw it out!). I also freeze kaffir lime leaves when I can find them. And finally, Marc's favourite "seasoning" (I never use enough to call it a "food"), bacon. I freeze it in packages of four or five rashers, which is enough to chop up into the perfect amount of lardons for stews or sauces, or for frying up as a garnish for salads.

Hi Kaffir lime leaves! Hi Cod Fillets! Hi rhubarb from my garden!
Ha ha! There's Vodka, trying to get into the picture! What a ham!

There we go! I think that just about covers the wonderful world of my icebox staples. Sorry for the long post. Stay tuned for upcoming posts, where I'll point out when a dish is mainly a larder-based concoction. Just look for the label "From the larder!"

Bonne fin de semaine!

My ample larder, part 1

Sorry for my tardiness in posting. I have no excuse. I'm a bad, bad blogger. Please accept the following post as a token of my affection to you, my sweet, sweet and gentle reader. 

The larder... From the old French lardier. It means a place where you keep your lard. Or something along those lines... My grandmother used to say larder. It's the only reason I use the word. Surely pantry or store cupboard would be more poetic, but I like larder. Laugh if you will. Plenty have already. Larder.

So here's the deal. I hate getting caught defenceless. If someone arrives at our house on short notice, whether it be for dinner or an afternoon visit, I need my artillery to blow their taste buds away (or at least distract them). If I were to have nothing to serve them, not even a measly Kalamata, I'd die of shame. I don't know why this is so important - it just is. I think it has to do with the fact that when I'm happy, I eat. And when I have visitors, I'm happy. So if I don't serve food, it's like telling people I'm not happy to see them... Ooo. That's heavy. I think I just learned something about myself just now. Cool.

Anyhoo, back to the larder. The larder is a wonderful, magical place - a cave of wonders if you will - where certain types of foodstuffs are at the ready at all times to insure readiness to feed and entertain. When paired with the staples that are always in my fridge and freezer, these food items make me feel like the MacGyver of the kitchen - only with better hair. So the following post is an ode to my larder, if you will. An hommage to the foods that stand on guard for me (and the people I feed).

Arrgh! I forgot about the bendy shelves! Please ignore that aesthetically disturbing
feature of my larder. Also, please ignore the Skippy peanut butter. I'm still working on
converting Marc to the sugar-free non-crap kind. It ain't easy.

First, the protein. It's so easy to have non-perishable protein on hand. Here's a run through of the main ones I usually have lying around:

• DuPuy lentils: they're just plain fabulous. They're meaty and fragrant and have a beautiful mouthfeel. They remain firm when they're cooked, so they're actually still appealing when they come out of the pot. You can serve them cool tossed with fresh herbs, a green stringy thing like beans or asparagus, tomatoes, baby spinach and a vinaigrette. Or you can serve them hot with some sautéed onions and Marc's favourite "seasoning", bacon (you only need three or four slices, cooked and crumbled), with maybe a side salad and some baguette. Smoked pork and lentils. It's like the perfect marriage of French Canadian and European French. Can you hear the angels signing?
• Quinoa: good as a side dish for fish from the freezer or, again, in a salad, like my roasted zucchini and quinoa salad. For a fast and heathy fish recipe, check out Martha Stewart's technique for cooking it en papillote. Normally, I just stick the fish and whatever random veggies I have lying around the fridge (thinly sliced so they cook quickly) in the little cooking pocket. Try thinly sliced potatoes, onion, chives, red pepper, grated carrot and baby spinach. Don't forget the salt and pepper. 
• Canned beans: most beans can be thrown into salads (with or without lettuce) or made into patties or stews, while chickpeas can also be roasted for snacks, or be transformed into delicious, silky hummos. And you already know about the virtues of chickpea flour!
• Canned fish: Jamie Oliver has a fantastic recipe for pasta with tuna and tomato sauce. It's from his Cook with Jamie book. I highly recommend trying it. Canned tuna can also easily be added into salads, such as my no-brainer macaroni salad (one of Marc's all-time favourites... Really?!?):  Mix together cooked and cooled macaroni, a can of tuna, finely chopped red onion, fresh chopped or dried mint for seasoning, tomato, celery, a generous glug of olive oil and juice of a lemon, salt and pepper.
• Nuts: I keep most of these in the fridge, but I'm mentioning them here. Usually, I have a Costco bag of almonds and also another type of nut which I like to alternate between walnuts, pecans and pine nuts. I use nuts in salads and in pilafs, but they're also very helpful when I'm baking and, especially, when I make an out-of-the-blue pesto. Like in the early summer when my beet greens were still young and fresh: using my food processor, I whizzed around beet greens, parmesan, lemon zest and juice, garlic and some almonds. Throw some hot pasta on that, honey. Woo. Nuts are also lovely when entertaining. Toast a few pecans, coat them with honey and other tastiness, serve with cocktails and you have friends for life. Same goes for your run-of-the-mill dry roasted peanuts. Pop the top, serve with pickles, olives and some pretzels and you have a party!

Second, the carbs. Mmmmm. Carbs. 

• Couscous: good for (duh) salads, side dishes (add some chopped dried apricots, some chopped mint and a few toasted pine nuts to the cooked couscous) or an awesome vehicle for leftover tomato sauce (again, as a side dish, perhaps?)
• Bulghour: yadda yadda salads, yadda yadda side dish, yadda yadda to thicken vegetarian stews (this is Sparklypear's discovery - brilliant!) 
• Pasta: no need to elaborate here. Watch the calorie factor, if that's a concern.
• Rice: all types. Brown, Basmati, Arborio. For making salads, pilafs, stir fries and calorie-bomb / emotionally therapeutic risotto. 
• Vermicelli and asian noodles: for spring rolls, pho (pronounced fuh, I've been told) and stir-fries.
• Panko breadcrumbs: do I really need to explain the panko? Do I need to explain the need for oxygen?
• Triscuit. they're like bread that doesn't go bad. You put stuff on 'em. And they're delicious. And they're only three ingredients. Wheat, oil and salt. No crap. Beautiful.

And finally, the rest.

• Vinegars: I find that with red wine vinegar, white wine vinegar, cider vinegar and balsamic, I have all the bases covered well enough. With any of these, a little garlic, a little dijon, a splash of fresh lemon juice and some olive oil, you're in vinaigrette heaven. Anybody who's isn't satisfied with that is just a whiner.
• Oils: organic olive and canola are in the larder. Toasted hazelnut, toasted walnut and sesame are in the fridge (nut oils spoil quickly - never store them at room temperature).
• (Addendum) Coconut milk: I just remembered coconut milk while writing the post for Larder- part deux. Crave it, need it. For asian dishes, curries and cakes. 'Nuff said. Just take care you don't overdo it - those bad fats'll git 'ya.
• Sweeteners: local honey, brown sugar, white sugar and asian rock sugar (Yan Can Cook converted me to that one) are in the larder. Maple syrup from Awazibi in Maniwaki is in the fridge. I use the honey and the maple syrup to sweeten salad dressings (on top of their obvious breakfast applications). The sugars are for baking and coffee. The rock sugar is for asian dishes such as stir-fries.
• Dried fruit: I keep most of them in the fridge for optimal freshness (dried cherries, apricots and raisins), although I did notice that yellow-bagged lollygagger in the picture (dried plums). I add dried fruit to salads, pilafs, oatmeal in the morning and baked goods. They're also perfect for snacking when combined with a handful of almonds.
• Plain chips and pretzels: you can't see them in the larder picture because I keep them in a separate cupboard above the fridge, high enough that I have to make the conscious effort to drag a chair over to reach them. Stupid temptation. Chips and pretzels are another non-spoiling crowd pleaser when it's cocktail time. But we're not heathens, here. Serve them with something fancy like cornichons and pickled onions. Puh-lease. 

So there we go! Part one of the greater-larder overview. I hope this information proves useful as the cold weather rears its ugly head and you begin squirrelling food away for winter... Ew. Apologies for using the "W" word. 

Next post: larder, part deux! À plus tard!