Dutch meatball challenge

Rach -

A few weeks ago we lost Grandma - physically, anyway. We lost our spunky little grandmother slowly over the past few years, dementia taking her away from us. For those of us that loved her, our grief over her death was tempered with relief, the relief that she is again her whole self - I'm sure she has Heaven in good order, sitting cozily with Oma as they continue to monitor our lives from above.

As well as a meticulous housekeeper, Grandma was an amazing cook. She loved to cook for her family and we all have a lengthy list of our favourites - dutch pancakes, appelflappen, apple tart, booterkoek, borecole, her chicken (I loved that chicken).. this is just the start of a long list. When we were reminiscing a few weeks ago I mentioned THE MEATBALL; others in our family nodded knowingly, they had been in on the meatball the whole time. Mom recalled meatball nights as being her favourite nights growing up. I confess I felt a bit like I missed the boat on this one - I didn't experience Grandma's meatball perfection until more recently. The truth is, I'd never been a huge meatball fan- they were fine, but nothing to rave about.

And then I had Grandma's meatball. Meatball, singular. I'm talking about a large ball with a crispy, brown crusty outside and a soft melt-in-your mouth inside meaty inside. I'm almost positive that they were baked - I recall a small corningware dish with exactly 2 meatballs of perfection, one for her and one for me. And the drippings or 'shoo' as we called it, to be served over the boiled potatoes. Ahh, meatball bliss. And that was it, my one experience of Grandma's meatball. And alas, there won't be any more.

Which brings me to the challenge. Grandma's meatball. Go.

Duck Part Deux

My apologies, the delay wasn't an attempt to up the suspense. To refresh: Rachel challenged me to cook a duck. It was cooked. It was eaten. It was good. I reported on the getting of the duck, but here is my second duck installment, on the cooking of the duck -

After some cookbook and internet perusal I decided that for the best duck advice I needed to go to the expert - Julia Child. Mastering the Art of French Cooking was my tome of choice - Caneton l'orange was the method. This was my first foray with Julia. It was long overdue and I solemnly promise that it will not be my last. Julia did not disappoint. Her instructions were clear and comprehensive (comprehensive meaning a little on the long side, but she leaves nothing to speculation).

Duck Life Lesson 2: Consult the authority on a subject.

According to Julia, the most important element of the meal is the sauce. I totally concur with her on this point. While the sauce was the most labour intensive part of the dish, involving the julienning and boiling of the orange peel, as well as the creation of a duck stock, the effort was worthwhile - it was delicious. Before I even started to cook Duck  I set about making stock from the neck, gizzard, heat and various organs. Before my duck journey, I felt a bit queasy with the thought of dealing with these bits and pieces, but when I was in the moment I was having a grand old time. Part of the experience of cooking the duck was just that: the experience of cooking a duck. Sometimes you just need to step out of your regular routine and go for it. Or as my co-worker and friend Jocelyn used to always tell me: 'Expand your bubble.'

Duck Life Lesson 3: Try something new. Expand your bubble.

Now, if I cook another duck I'll try to be a bit more nonchalant about the whole affair. This particular duck got the royal treatment. I was taking out the fat every 15 minutes. I was peeking. I was poking. Poor Duck couldn't get a break. All the attention did pay off- the skin was nice and brown, a la Julia. If I do cook duck again I might follow the advice I read online and cook the duck slightly rarer - however, as a novice I lumped duck in the poultry category and didn't want to send our company home with any salmonella. 

Final Duck Life Lesson: Break bread (or in this case duck) together.

Having our friends the Vermettes join us for Duck Wednesday payed off for a few reasons - First of all, I knew that our buddy Jeff was going to be a top-notch duck carver, and this was true. Secondly, there isn't anything better then sitting a round the table, getting full, having a glass of vino, sharing tales, putting you daughter in time out for pinching other children, and having a great time with friends. AND Maria's a great photographer (bottom duck photo credits go to her). AND if you make enough of an impression on the Vermettes you might get featured in Maria's weekly scrapbook. I just checked her blog, we made the cut (basically to make her digital scrapbook you need to be the best thing they do that week, so don't hang out with them when they have too much else on the go).

I'm way too lazy to write out the whole recipe, instead I'm going to direct you to this site where someone else did the typing for me: Caneton ` l'Orange

I made a few modifications: Mike missed the voicemail directing him to the liquor store to buy port, so this duck sauce was the non-alcoholic version. I subbed fresh squeezed orange juice and would like to argue that my version gives Julia's some competition. Secondly, I didn't have arrowroot and used cornstarch as the thickening agent in the sauce. For the actual duck roasting - I didn't switch the duck from side-to-side every 15 minutes, but did tilt it up on one side at the end of the cooking which made the bottom nice and brown. I also followed Auntie Judy's advice and put the duck on a small rack inserted into my roaster, so that it didn't stew in the fat.

Will I be making duck again? Yes, it turns out that duck isn't so scary after all -plus I learned a few things along the way. Rach, thanks for the challenge.

Oh, and no, as anticipated, Mike did not try the duck. He did, however, compliment the potatoes roasted in duck fat.

 

 

The Duck - Part 1

Duck Wednesday finally dawned- February 29th - when the calendar gifts you an extra day, what better way to spend it than to cook a duck?

First things first, I needed a duck. When Rachel first proposed the duck challenge I did some sleuthing, and discovered that in order to cook a duck in Chilliwack you need to go to the Duck farm. That is, the Fraser Valley Duck and Goose farm which is located in Yarrow, a scenic little village outside of Chilliwack. I had idyllic images of the duck and geese flock meandering through the countryside. This was going to be great - what a learning opportunity for the kids - from the farm to the table.

Duck Wednesday arrived - the predicted snow/rain was nowhere to be seen- everything was in alignment for the perfect outing. The baby had napped, the snacks were prepared, the camera charged, and with children all snug in the mini van, we were off.

We had the perfect country drive. First great thing - the train. Unlike many Canadians, I have never lived in a town bisected by the railway. While I still do an inward groan when those railway lights start flashing, the kids are always overjoyed at the sight of a train, and I am once again reminded to stop being a grump and to enjoy the little things. After counting cars and speculating on the contents, our party proceeded. We saw bald eagles in trees, at least 10. We passed a gravel pit. We discussed where gravel comes from. We passed a hydro truck - we talked about Chief (Grandpa Campbell, our family lineman). We played the tractor game (not hard to do in Chilliwack, first one to spot a tractor wins). And at last, after a few more curves in the road - there it was, the Duck farm. To greet us, in the open field in front of the farm was the biggest bald eagle that I have seen. I decided it was a statue and turned into the farm.

Now, at the sight of the farm my romantic notions of running among the duck flock vanished, this was no mom and pop operation. No, this was a parking packed with employee cars at a full-on duck and geese operation (in fact I suspect that Fraser Valley Duck and Goose is the primary Yarrow employer). So with nary a feathered fowl in sight we entered the little store and selected 'The Duck'. It was fresh and ready for my oven. The duck lady was helpful in the selection process but not so helpful in my request to actually see the live ducklings.

 

While driving away I did see a bird of a different sort:  the eagle was not a statue. He had moved- and the beady stare he gave seemed to acknowledge us - from one Duck connoisseur to another (upon moving to Chilliwack Mike and I have been educated that you will spot the most bald eagles at chicken farms, waiting for the 'remnants', I inferred that an eagle at a duck farm would be operating in the same carnivorous-ish fashion).

Duck Life Lesson #1 - It's often about the journey, not the destination.

To be continued.... 

(I know the suspense is driving you crazy right now)

Cake Decorating (it's just like milking a cow)

Rach - the Duck is in the works. There are very few hours that go by in a day lately where 'THE DUCK' doesn't pop into my head. Yes, capitalized. Imagine, trying to go about your day with 'THE DUCK' hanging over you; it's more than a bit disconcerting. I know, I know, just get it done already. There are a few poultry details to sort out first. So stay tuned. From ducks to cake decorating-

I attend a weekly ladies group every Wednesday morning. We drink coffee. We eat. We gab. We have a Bible study. We laugh, sometimes we cry. Recently we learned how to decorate cakes.

While my rose petals need some practice, I did learn how to hold a bag full of frosting. I was again reminded that we live in farm country- The most common advice was: 'hold the bag like you're milking a cow.' These girls weren't referring to milking in the abstract, no their wise words came from an intimate knowledge of Bessy's utters. I appreciated that it was just taken for granted that I would have such a skill set.

Note to self: Learn how to milk a cow

Milk Chocolate Frozen Yogurt

I queried a class of grade sixers: Who believes someone loves Mrs. Speller enough to send her a giant heart-shaped box of chocolates? A box so big it eclipsed the entire surface of the round table?

From a class of fifteen, four hands shot up, waving frantically: see me, I believe in you. Or maybe, I believe in love? Or maybe, I'm in love with chocolate?

I am in love with chocolate. I can relate. But not to the other sixers who stared at me blankly. Except for one who said, that's a lie.

My father, a teacher, was loved enough to receive a giant box (as big as the top of a round table) of Purdys Chocolates every Valentines Day. No, not my mother, a wealthy family of Malaysian descent who bought up the top of Broadmead Hill, cleared the houses and build a mansion. They were very kind, throwing parties, giving gifts, launching teachers into retirement with in-mansion mini dramas. I still find small remains of those days amongst my things: a canvass bag, a parrot-topped pen...

This milk chocolate yogurt is not as good as the giant chocolate heart. Nothing is, really. But it's delicious enough.

Milk Chocolate Frozen Yogurt

1/3 cup plus 1/4 cup milk
1 cup heavy cream
6 ounce milk chocolate, finely chopped
2 cups plain yogurt
1 large pinch kosher salt
3 tbsp sugar
3 ounces dark chocolate, finely chopped

Heat the milk and cream in saucepan over medium heat until almost simmering. Remove from heat and whisk in milk chocolate. Transfer to a bowl and whisk in yogurt, salt, and sugar. Let cool.
Regerate until cold, about two hours. You can also hold the mixture in the fridge overnight.

Freeze the chocolate pieces.

Churn the yogurt according to the specifics of your icecream maker.

Fold in the chocolate pieces.

Kitchen Challenge Take Two

A rush of wildlife sightings have occurred of late in my neck of the woods. The deer were not deterred by the snow and continued to camp out under the evergreens at the edge of the yard. If you read my last post you know wildlife encounters are not always pleasant in these parts, but neither Caleb or I have been attacked or molested by a deer, anyways. I'm still keeping an eye out for the gray squirrel, who I neither trust nor encourage to roam freely about the property, which he does. I spotted him bounding along the roof of the cabin the other day and my blood ran cold.

Perhaps I'm hyper aware of the creatures around me due to the viewing of two nature embracing films. The first was The Cove, very chilling and sad and makes one wonder about sushi. The second was Winged Migration, quite the opposite, rather inspiring and beautiful in a boring sort of way. Although my opinion on nature documentaries is not to be trusted. In all honesty, I find Blue Planet ho hum. Look, not a popular point of view, I know, but the truth.

With winged migration in mind I was particularly impressed when upon walking up to Elk Lake on Victoria's single blissful snow day, hoards of duck and geese were winging in and out of the lake. The honk of the goose is quite chilling in the snow as wind whips across the lake. If only I could learn to imitate it. But some things are not meant to be.

It is with these wonderful creatures in mind that I propose the next challenge.

Haley: Prepare yourself. This will be wonderful. Consider the call of the goose, and prepare to prepare your:

duck, duck, duck Goose! duck.

Bibimbap

I know that putting a fried egg on top of a bowl of pretty much anything is pretty trendy right now, a trend that I've embraced wholeheartedly in the past few years. I've been cracking eggs on risotto, on fried rice, I've even cracked a few on a pizza (I know you're skeptical, but it was good). I may be jumping on a foodie bandwagon, but full credit to this one goes to the Koreans. They've been cracking eggs on top of rice bowls for years.

It's Lunar New Year today, and to celebrate we had my first attempt at a traditional Korean dish - Bibimbap. Made from scratch it is a bit fussy, though according to Grace, in Korea this meal is made with leftover side-dishes, ones that are present with every Korean meal. This is Grace's dad's go to meal when her mom is away-

Campbell-Choi Bibimbap

Ingredients:

Veggies-
2 carrots, cut into thin strips
1 zuchinni, cut into thin strips
1 handful of sliced mushrooms (more if EVERYONE in your family likes mushrooms)
bean sprouts (handful per person)
spinach - I used aprox 3 cups fresh

ground beef, aprox 1 pound

eggs, 1 per person

Korean chili paste, found in your city's Korean grocery store, unless you live in Chilliwack.

Sesame oil, with a pinch of salt and pepper

Get Cooking:

1) Make some sticky rice - Korean rice has a stickier texture than Chines, from my Korean taste testers I have found that Calrose rice is the one that most approximates Korean rice texture.

2) Fry the ground beef. Grace reports that this should not be seasoned, as the seasoning comes later but I couldn't resist and added a shot of soy sauce and a pinch of sugar.

3) Cook your veggies. Now, in some of the recipes I saw online some of the veggies were sauteed in sesame oil, but we made Choi-style Bibimbap, which means that veggies were blanched in boiling water. I used one pot with salted boiling water and just rotated the different veggies through, pulling them out with a slotted spoon to a platter when the preceeding veg was cooked.

4) Fry the eggs, sunny-side up style

5) Assemble. On a bowl of rice add the veggies, the beef, a shot of sesame oil, a shot of chili paste, and finally an egg.

6) Mix! See the second photo of our lovely Korean model for the proper mixing technique. I offered to go get chop sticks but was informed that this meal is NOT eaten with chop sticks.

Rach - I'm still waiting on that reciprocal challenge. Guess you're just afraid with what I'm going to come back with. And you should be, afraid that is. Very afraid.