Cherry tomato, small and sweet,
Summertime’s grandest treat.
Orange or yellow, purple or red,
Sun-warmed is the best, I’ve said.
Dangling fruit, ripe and ready
On bushy stalks of green so steady.
That certain odor on my fingers
That your leaves leave, it lingers
But that’s okay. How I love that smell!
On sunny days, it makes my heart swell.
Cherry tomato, friend, not foe.
The only veggie I can grow.
Happy New Year everyone!
I don’t know about you, but I’m a little glad the holidays have passed. Don’t get me wrong. They were wonderful. Full of love, laughter, good times, and of course good food. One of the things I love most about the holidays is the food and drink. There are special recipes that I save only for this time of the year: homemade eggnog, butter tarts, ginger molasses cookies, mulled wine. Sure, I could whip up butter tarts any day of the year, but saving them for this special occasion makes them sparkle.
The big finale, though, is Christmas dinner. The tradition in my family is turkey, but a few years ago I spent Christmas at Nathan’s parents’ house on Vancouver Island, and I wanted to make something special for his family as a thank you for welcoming me into their home. So I decided to try a new recipe: Beef Wellington.
Ever since that year Beef Wellington has been the go-to Christmas dinner for Nathan and I. The original recipe came from Gordon Ramsay, but I read it incorrectly, which caused some interesting adaptations on my part. Instead of chestnut mushrooms, I used chestnuts and mushrooms to make my duxelle (mushroom paste). And last year we made another change that is here to stay. We went in on a quarter cow here in Pemberton, and with it came four beautiful beef tenderloin medallions. So instead of preparing a whole tenderloin, we did individual Beef Wellingtons, which I’m happy to share with you here today. The puff pastry to meat ratio is higher, they’re super easy to prepare ahead of time, and they look like perfectly wrapped little presents when they’re completed. Ideal for Christmas dinner. After trying this, you may never go back to turkey again. (Sorry.)(Not sorry.)
Individual Beef Wellingtons
Ingredients
Beef tenderloin medallions, ~ 1.5″ – 2″ thick
Grainy mustard
Mushrooms (I used brown mushrooms this year, but any kind is fine.)
Whole chestnuts
Prosciutto (2 slices per medallion)
Prepared frozen puff pastry, thawed.
1.Roast the chestnuts. Peel while still warm, and set aside to cool.
For two years I roasted my chestnuts in a cast iron pan over our woodstove, mostly for the novelty of singing “Chestnuts roasting on a woodstove.” This year I roasted them in the oven and it’s way easier, and faster. Make sure to score your chestnuts with an X, and I soaked mine for about an hour first. The idea is that the water will create steam and help loosen the skin under the shell. If you find they’re not peeling very easily, they probably need more time in the oven.
2. Dice your mushrooms, and saute with a little butter and a sprinkle of salt. Cook until most of the moisture is gone, and they are soft and browned. Set aside to cool.
The size of your dice doesn’t matter because we’re going to put them in a food processor later. The salt helps draw out the moisture. We’re looking to remove most of the moisture from the mushrooms so they don’t make the puff pastry too soggy.
3. Mix the chestnuts and the mushrooms in a food processor until they form a smooth paste. Set aside.
You may notice that I haven’t given any specific quantities up until this point, and that’s because this step is personal preference. Your mushroom to chestnut ratio is entirely up to you, as well as how much of this paste you would like. I was making Wellingtons for nine people, so I used an entire bag of chestnuts, and about fifteen to twenty mushrooms. It made enough for about two tablespoons per Wellington. You can also skip this part entirely if you don’t like mushrooms, or chestnuts.
4. Pat your beef medallions dry and season with salt and pepper. Sear in a hot pan with a little olive oil, only a minute per side. Set aside on a plate. Brush the tops with grainy mustard while still warm.
I like to use a little steak spice on mine as well. You barely need a minute in a nice, hot pan. We’re not looking to cook the steaks; we’re just looking for a little char on the outside to add flavour.
5. Assembly time. Place a small piece of plastic wrap on your workstation. Lay down two pieces of prosciutto in an X pattern. Spread a spoonful of your mushroom/chestnut mixture in the centre. Place the beef medallion mustard side down on top of the mixture. Gently fold up the edges of the prosciutto, and tightly wrap with the plastic. Let sit in the fridge at least 30 minutes, or until you’re ready to wrap with puff pastry.
You can prepare these ahead of time up until this point and keep in the fridge, or you can go straight to wrapping in puff pastry. The time spent in the fridge helps firm up the Wellington and makes it easier to wrap with the puff. I usually let these sit in the fridge while I prepare my puff pastry. If you’ve let them sit in the fridge for longer, let them sit out at room temperature for a little while to ensure even cooking.
6. Roll out the puff pastry to approx. 1/4″ thickness. Cut into squares large enough to wrap around your Wellingtons. Unwrap the medallions from the plastic wrap, being careful not to dislodge the prosciutto, and place upside down on your puff pastry square. Wrap the four corners of the puff pastry around the meat, and use a little egg wash to help seal.
I’m sorry I don’t have a picture for this step. The size of your puff square should be just enough to fold over the beef, like you did with the prosciutto. You can make egg wash by beating one egg with a bit of water, approx. 1-2 tsp. Try not to roll your puff pastry too thick, otherwise you’ll be eating more puff than meat. Thinner is better.
7. Place Wellingtons on a baking sheet covered with parchment. Cut slits into the top of the pastry, and brush all over with egg wash. Bake at 400ºF for 25-30 minutes, until golden brown.
Cooking time will depend on the thickness of your meat, and your oven. Use a meat thermometer to ensure you don’t overcook your meat. I overcooked the meat a little this year in favour of a more golden pastry, but nobody seemed to mind because they were so delicious. I cut some triangles from the puff to frame the slits, using a little egg wash to glue them down.
And there you have it. Individual Beef Wellingtons. They go great with a fresh, green salad to counterbalance the heavy meat and puff pastry. It takes a bit of planning and prep, but you may find these sneaking into your own traditional holiday recipes before long.
Okay everyone, there’s something I need to get off my chest.
I. Love. Food.
I absolutely love it. I love everything about it. I love the act of eating. I love the sheer variety of foods to eat. I love the challenge of creating your own. And I especially love the joy around food.
I work at the Blackbird Bakery and one of the things I love most is when people tell us how good our food is. When their faces light up and they say things like “I haven’t had an almond croissant that good outside France,” or “That was the best muffin I’ve ever had.” Something as simple as a really tasty muffin can make someone’s day, and that makes me so happy. I love when people gather at the bakery and chat over sandwiches and turkey pies, or start their day off on a positive note with a cheesy breakfast sandwich. There is something magical about how really good food can change our whole day.
I have a friend who is a chef in Vancouver and primarily does catering for films. On a recent visit he told me how much he dislikes food, and how much he’d prefer it if there were a pill he could take instead of eating food. That made me so sad. Growing up I always had joy around food. I have so many happy memories around the making and eating of food, especially with family. I can close my eyes right now and conjure up the joy I would feel walking into my house after school and being greeted with the warm smell of freshly baked banana bread. Our family of seven had dinner together every night and I can still hear the buzzing conversation of all of us sharing our days over chicken cacciatore or my mom’s amazing chili. For me, food, family, and joy go hand in hand (in hand).
So recently when I learned we’d be having a quick visit by my partner’s parents I knew I wanted to make a special dinner. It felt like a perfect opportunity to break out the fall flavours and use up some items in my freezer and pantry. I pulled out a chicken I had gotten from a friend here in Pemberton and made Maple Rosemary Chicken from the New York Times Cooking, with a simple rice pilaf that wouldn’t overpower the flavour of the chicken, and some roasted Brussel sprouts with bacon (because why do I only make this dish at Thanksgiving? It’s amazing.). But the thing I was most excited about was something tasty for dessert, and I wanted to make something that would shine. Something I hadn’t done before, because experimenting with food is fun. Continuing with the fall flavour theme, I decided to go for Maple Pecan Monkey Bread that I adapted from another NYT recipe, paired with a simple cream cheese icing. I’m happy to share it with you here:
Maple Pecan Monkey Bread
Brioche Dough:
1 tbsp yeast
3 tbsp warm water
2 tbsp maple syrup
1 1/2 tsp salt
3 1/2 cups all purpose flour
4 eggs, room temperature
1 1/2 sticks (3/4 cup) unsalted butter, softened
Maple Brown Butter:
8 tbsp unsalted butter
1/2 cup maple syrup
1 tsp salt
1/4 cup sugar
1 tsp cinnamon
1 cup pecans, toasted
1.Mix the yeast in a small bowl with 3 tbsp warm water. Add 1/2 tbsp maple syrup. Let sit 5-10 minutes to rise.
Note: I tend to use Fleischmann’s traditional dry active yeast in my recipes, which requires a little proofing. If you are using instant yeast you can skip this first step and add the yeast directly into the flour/salt mixture, and add the warm water when you add the eggs.
2. Combine the flour and salt in the bowl of a stand mixer. Mix on low speed using the paddle attachment to blend. Add the eggs, remaining 1 1/2 tbsp maple syrup, and yeast/water mixture. Use the paddle attachment until the dough starts to come together.
3. Switch to the hook attachment and continue mixing on low. Add the softened butter in small chunks, a few pieces at a time, until fully incorporated. Continue mixing, stopping and scraping any stray pieces of butter on the sides or hook as needed, until the dough is smooth and elastic. This may take up to 10 minutes. Turn the dough into a buttered bowl and cover with a clean towel. Let rise until doubled in size, approx. 90 minutes.
4. When you’re ready to assemble, melt the butter in a small saucepan over medium heat. Cook, stirring with a wooden spoon, until the dairy solids turn golden brown and the butter smells nutty. While stirring add the maple syrup and salt. Bring to a boil while stirring, then remove from the heat. Set aside while you get your dough ready.
5. Mix the cinnamon and sugar in a small bowl. Butter a 10-inch Bundt or tube pan. Turn your dough onto a clean work surface and roll into a thick rope, approx. 2 inches in diameter. Cut this rope into eight even pieces, and then cut each of those pieces into eight, until you end up with 64 small dough balls.
Note: I didn’t have a Bundt pan so I used my tall tube pan that I use for angel food cake and it worked fine. You don’t need any flour for your work surface because of the amount of butter used in this dough. It should be soft and slightly greasy, but not sticky.
6. Gently roll a piece into a small ball and dip in the cinnamon sugar, rolling it around until evenly coated. You can do multiple dough balls at the same time, but avoid overcrowding to ensure they are evenly coated with the sugar. Place the sugared balls in the pan and repeat until you have a single layer. Scatter some of the toasted pecans on top. Repeat this process until all the dough balls and pecans are in the pan.
Note: Because I was using the large tube pan, I was only able to make two layers of dough balls. It doesn’t look like much, but when we do the second rise the dough balls will expand dramatically.
7. Drizzle the maple brown butter all over the tops and sides of the dough balls. Cover with a clean towel and let rise in a warm spot until puffed and the dough comes to about an inch below the top of the pan, approx. 30-45 minutes.
8. Preheat oven to 350ºF. Uncover the pan and bake until golden brown on top, approx. 35-40 minutes. Put the pan on a wire rack for 5 minutes. Place a large plate on top of the pan, grip both together, and quickly and carefully flip. The monkey bread should come away easily from the pan. Serve warm or room temperature.
And there you have it. Maple pecan monkey bread. I was very pleased with the way this recipe turned out. The edges are crispy and sweet, and the inside is soft and fluffy. A perfect combination. You could jazz this recipe up with some caramelized apples or bananas, or chocolate, or use almonds or hazelnuts instead. This would be a great recipe to make with kids, who can help roll and dip the dough balls. You can serve this warm with just butter, or a little more maple syrup drizzled on top. I used a basic cream cheese icing, made with butter, icing sugar, cream cheese, and heavy cream. The possibilities are endless.
Happy cooking everyone, and enjoy the joy!
Full disclosure: the following post isn’t actually about food or farming. I know, I’m sorry. I ran it by Lisa Richardson because I had my doubts as to whether it would be appropriate, and as she jokingly said, “there’s no mention of dirt anywhere!”
But it is about Pemberton, and the people that live here, so please bear with me. It’ll be worth it in the end, I promise.
My partner and I didn’t end up in Pemberton by choice, per se, but by chance. He received an offer for a job based mainly out of Whistler, but his route would cover Squamish to Pemberton. We had the choice of which town we wanted to live in, and we chose Pemberton. The funny thing is that we didn’t choose Pemberton specifically because of its world renowned mountain biking and outdoor sports, or thriving farming community. It just seemed like a nice, quiet place to live, and we were tired of the hustle and bustle of big city living.
When we first moved here, I quickly came to realize how steeped Pemberton is in outdoor adventure sports. Mountain biking, BMX, hiking, climbing, skiing, sledding, paragliding, fishing, hunting, and everything in between. Once I started meeting people in the community, I realized that many of them came to Pemberton specifically for this reason, and would spend every free moment they had exploring and experiencing the rugged backcountry. I knew people who worked two jobs just to make sure they could afford both their ski pass and bike pass every year, and many that would keep their gear ready to go in their vehicle for a quick ride or climb after work. Because you never know.
I am not one of those people. I’m not what you would call athletic or even adventurous. I am the nerd. The book worm. I would much rather have my adventures within a really good book from the comfort of my sunny deck. I haven’t been on a bicycle in about eight years. I haven’t been on a pair of skis in probably fifteen.
And that started to bother me a little. Here I was, living in a gorgeous valley full of fun and adventure in the great outdoors, and I started to feel that I was missing something. And with housing prices rising and the town really growing, I had a little thread of disquiet that I didn’t belong in Pemberton if I wasn’t into that, and that maybe I’d be better suited somewhere else. That I should let someone else take my place who would enjoy those activities.
Let’s change course a little here. Two weeks ago I attended my first writing conference in Seattle held by the Pacific Northwest Writers Association, of which I’m a member. I spent four days taking workshops, meeting other authors, including those specifically in my genre (fantasy fiction), chatting with agents and editors, and overall immersing myself in the world of writing. I was incredibly nervous to go. I didn’t know a single person there. I had never done this before. And I had only been seriously writing for about three years, a process that I’ve gone through almost entirely alone. I was a little nervous that I’d meet more established, published authors and they’d laugh in my face.
I’m happy to say they didn’t. I had the most incredible, uplifting, energizing time of my life. From the very first morning, I had no problem chatting up strangers and engaging in intelligent conversation about writing. I got to ask their opinions on topics I was a little unsure about, like self-publishing vs. traditional publishing, and share what I’ve learned on how to write fiction. I made friends that I saw again and again during the conference, friends that I imagine I’ll have for a very long time. I pitched my novel to agents and editors for the first time and didn’t make a fool of myself. I got to meet incredible authors like: Kay Kenyon, who has 14 published novels under her belt; Donald Maas, veteran literary agent and expert fiction instructor; Christopher Vogler, who’s been a story consultant for major Hollywood companies (including Disney) for decades. I even got to shake hands with R.L. Stine, who was the featured speaker for the conference. (He’s hilarious, by the way.)
I realized from this conference that those are my people. Writers, editors, literary agents. People involved in the writing world and for whom writing is their whole life. Because writing is my whole life too. My first novel is almost finished and I’ve already got plans for three more. I think about my books every day. Every minute that I’m not at work or managing the tasks of my life, I’m thinking about writing. I keep a notebook and pen with me ready to go at all times. Because you never know.
So now, I’ve finally realized that I’m not betraying my beloved town of Pemberton by not participating in adventure sports. It’s just that my adventurist friends have found their people, and they happen to live in Pemberton. Their people are fixed on a geographic location, while my people are more spread out. I needed to put in a little extra effort to find my people. And the good news is that you can have multiple people. My community in Pemberton are my people too, because while we may not share a love for outdoor sports, there is something else we share. A love for this town. We love its rugged beauty, its incredible natural bounty, and its thriving, vibrant community.
So I say whatever it is that calls to you, that drives you, that fills you up, you need to find your people. Find the people that share that love, that drive, and it will make everything better.
(And if you’re one of my writing people, feel free to chat me up about all things writing! You can usually find me at the Blackbird Bakery serving coffee and delicious treats.)
“Do you have any plans for Canada Day?”
I asked, and was asked, this question several times on Sunday while I was at work. Some people were going for hikes or bike rides. Some people were having parties or visiting friends. Some people were going to partake in the festivities at the community centre.
I had zero plans for Canada Day this year. My sister and three of her friends came up to visit and hung out during the day while I was at work, and afterwards I made us dinner, and cake, and we had a lovely visit. I even got to bed at a reasonable time. To be perfectly honest, it was like any other weekend, with no special plans.
I felt a little guilty at first. I mean, it’s a special holiday. We should be doing something to celebrate. But I realized that I didn’t actually feel bad at all. For me, taking a break from planning actually is something special. I’m a chronic organizer. I have to-do lists for my to-do lists. I’m constantly thinking four, five days in advance, planning meals, organizing lists, and arranging errands around my work schedule. I have a whiteboard in my house for spur of the moment rememberings, and an app on my phone to organize my lists when I’m out. I am forever and always making plans.
But I’ve discovered some of the best things can emerge when all my carefully laid plans go completely out the window.
I’m a comically bad gardener. I’ve tried every one of the four years we’ve been in Pemberton to grow a successful garden, and the results have been less than formidable. I carefully plan out my gardens and flower beds. I research which types of veggies and flowers should go where and the conditions they need. I spend time planting, and watering, and fertilizing. And things never go as I plan. Take this picture for example.
This is the container where I planted some flower seeds at the end of spring in a beautiful sunny spot with fresh dirt. Where nothing took root and grew. And yet just beside this perfect container, growing out of nearly straight gravel, is a beautiful flower. Where did this come from? How did it get here? And how is it growing so vigorously with absolutely no attention from me? Does this make me frustrated? No. (Okay, for a brief second, maybe.) Instead I am wondrously amused at how beauty can come out of plans that go haywire.
My best example of this is our arrival in Pemberton. Before my boyfriend Nathan and I moved here four years ago, I had never been to Pemberton. We had plans to move to Vancouver Island once a long-awaited position came available for Nathan, and we were just waiting for the opportunity to unfold. We had carefully laid plans. So imagine my surprise when Nathan calls me at work one day and tells me to start looking at properties in either Squamish, Whistler, or Pemberton because he’d been offered a position based out of Whistler. Less than a month later we were moving, and six months later we found what we hope is our forever home. Did we plan for that? Definitely not. But beauty emerged in the form of this lovely town that we’ve fallen head over heels in love with, and now can’t imagine leaving.
As appreciated as this break in planning was this weekend, I won’t be hanging up my trusty to-do lists just yet. I’ll keep planning, and stay very aware that, as the poet Robert Burns said, the best-laid schemes of mice and men often go awry.
And when they do, I’ll be ready to appreciate the beauty that will surely unfold.
Summer is almost officially here, although it’s basically felt like summer this past month with the weather we’ve been having. The sun is out, the flowers are blooming, and the rain clouds have stayed away for the most part. While this is incredibly enjoyable, it makes one remember what else comes with sunny, dry weather.
Fire.
According to the BC Wildfire Service, since April 1st of this year there have already been 242 fires, with an area of over 37,000 hectares affected. And that number is only going to grow. Just last week the historic Ladner Creek trestle bridge went up in flames from a simple, discarded cigarette butt. I will never forget the wildfires from three years ago that caused smoke to hang like a pall over our beloved valley, mixing with the 40°C weather to create an uncomfortable miasma. I imagine that most of you, like me, feel some trepidation when hot weather lingers, and look to the horizon with dread for signs of smoke.
But thankfully, unlike the old adage, smoke doesn’t necessarily mean fire. If you are heading up Reid road to Mosquito Lake this summer and happen to smell smoke, don’t panic. It’s probably coming from our house, and it’s not a fire.
My boyfriend’s birthday was this past week, and I gave him a new digital electric smoker. He’s over the moon. Visions of smoking everything from bacon, salmon, trout, and even mac n’ cheese are dancing through our heads. Our first creation was this beauty, smoked pork shoulder, and it couldn’t have been easier. A simple spice rub, a five hour stint in the smoker with some apple and hickory chips, and the occasional spritz with an apple cider vinegar and apple juice mix, and voilà. And yes, it tastes just as good as it looks.
This summer, I sincerely hope the only smoke I have to reckon with is the kind that produces delicious results like this.
The first time I saw a hummingbird was in Sooke, on Vancouver Island, while visiting my boyfriend’s parents. They had several feeders around their property, and the first time one of these minuscule, zippy birds approached, I was completely rapt. I’ve found them fascinating ever since, but we lived in Vancouver, where no hummingbirds dared venture.
When Nathan and I moved to Pemberton four years ago, his mother Lisa gave us a hummingbird feeder as a housewarming gift. It was December at the time, and I couldn’t wait for spring to arrive to set up our feeder.
And now every year, as much as I look forward to spring for the fresh green scent of new growth and the return of warmer weather, what I really look forward to is the return of the hummingbirds. I get immense joy from putting out fresh, homemade nectar for these precious visitors, and take special care to ensure my feeder is always stocked. (I haven’t planted my garden yet, but I’ve already refilled my feeder twice.)
Part of my joy comes from being able to watch these fascinating birds closely, as the feeder is located right by our living room window. But a good portion of this joy is from the feeling that I’m helping these tiny creatures by providing them with food. Especially at this time of year, when the flowers are still just returning and nectar is low, and they are vying for the attentions of potential mates. (It must take a lot of energy to execute those dive-bombing shows the males use to impress the ladies.) Since moving here, I’ve learned there’s plenty of wildlife you shouldn’t feed, but thankfully the hummingbirds aren’t one. It gives me joy to feed these birds, while they in turn feed my joy.
Hummingbirds can be seen as a symbol of lightness, for the incredibly light way they move about their world. They can help remind us to try to use similar lightness in the way we move through our world. To leave gentle footprints on the Earth, to care for one another, and to treat everyone with gratitude and respect. So here’s to spring, here’s to joy, and here’s to the hummingbirds.
Traced Elements 