Probably in a bad way, since my days will now be consumed by popcorn eating.
I’ve always loved popcorn.
Just ask the good folks at the Mayfair who always bare witness to an ecstatic Hilary running towards them as they give away gigantic bags of end-of-the-night popcorn. Ask anyone who goes to the fair with me. Ask Ariel who was nearly trampled to death at Bluesfest this year when I ran through the crowd in search of a popcorn seller.
Fact: I am investing in my health.
Lets look at the positives. Popcorn is better for you than chips. It’s also significantly cheaper. Okay, so I eat it in bed for breakfast sometimes, but really, doesn’t everyone?
…
But okay, if you aren’t currently a popcorn-in-bed eater, this recipe will convert you. I swiped this recipe off my friend and roommate Brittany who, if possible, would create an at-home version of every single snack food. Her blog is full of delicious, homemade concoctions. Go love it.
Anyways, the other night as Britt, Freya and I were settling in to watch Kill Bill, the former decided to whip up a batch of kettle corn. Even though Freya and I were sharing a large bowl (B separated hers to put nutritional yeast on it, typical), our popcorn was gone in an instant. Really, record-breaking time.
We needed to make more popcorn, and ran over to the corner store in desperation, searching for more corn kernels. They were closed, and we were left with only a half-sized, second serving. Probably wise.
Since that fateful night, uh, less than a week ago, I’ve made three more batches of the popcorn. It is sinfully delicious in every way.
I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again: I adore all things colourful, crafty and creative.
This project combined all three while ALSO tossing in my love of all things European-design. Bonus!
Ever since returning from Europe, I’ve been dying to recreate some of the neat, interior designs I saw. The city that inspired me the most was Copenhagen, and the place was packed with interesting, unaffordable boutiques, design museums and specialty stores.
Even I became more colourful in Copenhagen! (for the record, this ice cream was delicious)
One of the coolest things I saw was fromIllum, a trendy department store found at the heart of Strøget, the city’s pedestrian shopping street. Everything in Illum was stunning and inspiring, from the woven rugs to the chic kid’s furniture. It was like IKEA on drugs.
I wanted it all. But since Denmark is already severely overpriced and I am but a mere, nearly-broke student, I decided that putting my own homemade spin on the store’s products were as good as it was going to get.
Here was my inspiration:
As soon as I got back from EU in September, I started trolling Saturday morning yard sales and Value Village aisles in search of a cheap, decrepit clock. Success came on the morning of the Old Ottawa South porch sale.
Two dollars for this baby.
Ah yes, keeping the price low was key, and this project cost all of $3 to complete. I used a plastic container of black paint I had purchased last summer at IKEA and carefully cut out coloured rounds (using a glue stick as a stencil) from my very extensive collection of paper.
The end result was, I think, even nicer and more sleek than the original. I’m proud.
Make sure you force your roommate to hold the clock and make funny faces at the camera
I want to learn German. ICH MÖCHTE SCHRECKLICH GERNE DEUTSCH LERNEN.
(That’s German for “I want to learn German so badly”)
I know it might not be the most practical language, but it is definitely the most fun. And by fun, I mean expressive, angry and passionate. You could be telling your puppy how cute it is and it would still sound like you were furious.
The flammkuchen and fall colours
When in Austria this past summer, I was surrounded by everything German (including delicious bratwurst hot dogs). I found myself able to understand a few of the signs, since English is like bastardized German. Seriously, take an English word, tack about 10 letters on to the front and/or back and mess it around a bit and you have the original German term.
Take for example my two favourites:
– Apfelstrudel = apple strudel
– Schokolade = chocolate
Cool, right? I swear the translation rule also applies to words outside the realms of food, but you know me. It’s all about the dessert.
Anyways, my Austrian adventures were only my first inspiration for this meal.
My second inspiration can be credited to a meal I had at The Lindenhof, a German restaurant in Ottawa’s Little Italy neighbourhood. The trip was just one stop on a moveable feast I attended andwrote about for the blog Local Tourist Ottawa. I could explain all about the gluttonous eve that transpired, but just click the link instead. One thousand words detailing a night of culinary wonder.
Anyways, at The Lindenhof we were served flammkuchen, the very meal that inspired the creation of this pizza-like dinner. According to Alison, the owner of the restaurant, flammkuchen literally translates to mean “flaming tarte.” Another thing I learned was that the tarte is technically a French specialty, originating in the Alsace region of the country. To be fair, the area used to belong to Germany before the end of WWI. Close enough.
The flammkuchen at The Lindenhof
Alison’s thin-crust flammkuchen had a special smoked cheese, bacon and caramelized onions.
And so, rather than trying to create some sort of spin-off adaptation of The Lindenhof’s flammkuchen (why fix something that isn’t broken?), I decided to use the toppings on their pizza to create my own. I’m also at home this weekend, and wanted to make a meal that was familiar enough that my family would still eat it. A pizza dinner is always a safe bet.
After frantically searching the interwebs for a recipe for crème fraiche (which was sold everywhere in Europe, but is nowhere to be found here) and flammkuchen, I was relieved to stumble on Smitten Kitchen’s recipe. Not only is the blog one of my favourites, but it finally offered an alternative to the impossible-to-find creme fraiche. The answer? Half ricotta and half sour cream. Brilliant.
This was a great dinner and super fast to make. It got rave reviews from my family. Even though my dad kept called pancetta “principessa” (the Italian word for princess), I knew he enjoyed it. He did steal lots of princesses off my plate, after all.
PS: I also blame Inglorious Basterds and a fierce Diane Kruger/Melanie Laurent for fuelling my desire to learn German. Thanks a lot, Tarantino.
PPS: if using this recipe, you should note that it made a hell of a lot of pizza. How much? One rectangular cookie sheet and one 9-inch round pizza worth. I recommend you go halfsies if making this just for yourself.
Enough freshly-made pizza dough to feed a small army
Okay, so I didn’t technically make this for Thanksgiving dinner, but it is definitely worthy of such an occasion.
And lets be honest, if it’s Sunday afternoon and you’re still not sure what you’re making for Thanksgiving dessert, well this is probably as easy as it gets. So read on. Or just skip to the bottom in case you’re cutting it close for time and just need to see how to get this baby made as fast as possible.
Thus far I’ve made two versions of this apple galette, one of which we will label the first, the other which will hereon in be called version two (creative, huh?). Also, for those of you who don’t know, a galette is basically a freeform cake of sorts, a dessert whose shape relies not on some fancy pie dish. Even better for last minute bakers.
The first galette was made in Toronto last weekend when I went to visit Matt. Since we were going to one of his friend’s house for a food party on Friday night (for the record, Matt’s friend is Brian, and he has a really awesome blog which you should all read and love), I needed to think of something that could be made using Matt’s limited baking supplies (really, no parchment paper?). The answer was this apple galette. I had been planning on making it earlier in the week, but had completely run out of time. And so, I brought the apples to Toronto in hopes of making the dessert there. Backstory with the fruit: I accidentally bought two kilograms instead of two pounds of apples. This was a tragic mistake.
Version two apple galette was made this past Friday night. It was better in every way: the crust was flakier (I actually followed the instructions) and the apples were more cinnamon-y and tossed in a light coating of lemon juice. The addition of some coarse sugar for decorative purposes didn’t hurt either.
Despite one galette being better than the former, both would definitely be passable in the great chaotic mess they call Thanksgiving dinner. This was a baby dessert (it made four medium-sized servings), so plan appropriately. And please god, be thankful for dessert. I sure as hell am.
I can, with 100 per cent certainty, say that this was the most adorable wedding that I will ever attend. I know that I’m young and will likely be attending my fair share of well-decorated, impeccably planned weddings over the next few decades, but none will ever top this one.
No, it wasn’t organized by a wedding planner nor was it an overly-swanky affair, yet Jane and Jake’s wedding a few weekends ago had more romance and love than a glitter-filled, overdone wedding could ever contain.
I first met Jane in the summer after my second year, when I worked as a Summer Orientation leader in Carleton’s Student Experience Office. Over the summer I was lucky enough to share dozens of lunches with her, and quickly found out about her passion for bees, Denmark and mason jars. I also heard about Jake, the man that she had been dating ever since they met working at Black’s Photography when she was in her late teens. I was over the moon when I finally found out they were engaged.
The wedding took place at Jane and Jake’s house, a beautiful cottage hidden away in the Gatineaus. Their ceremony took place beneath the end-of-September fall colours. It was adorable.
They both wore Birkenstocks. This, I love.
Jane, of course, was a very low-key bride and was in no way as demanding as the bridezillas I’ve seen on popular TLC shows. Maybe I have a skewered perception of how a bride-to-be should behave. Regardless, I was pleased to have that stereotype delicately shattered by Jane’s relaxed wedding nature.
Jane and her famous smile, pre-wedding
I think it was the simplicity of everything that made the ceremony so powerful. I thought everything was perfect, from Jane’s beautiful dress to the petite jars of wedding favour honey to the fact that Jane’s bouquet was a stunning collection of golden sunflowers.
Food was also an integral part of the day, and I’m horrified/excited to admit that I witnessed, for the very first time, a giant pig roasting over a crackling fire. There was a Lord of the Flies raw-ness to the scene. Other than the pig roast, there was cumin-flavoured cheese from Holland, a canoe filled with beer and more hamburgers and hotdogs than I’ve ever seen in my life.
There were also my cupcakes that Jane asked me to make. I was honoured when Jane asked me to bake for her, and of course agreed to make as many cupcakes as I could. That turned out to be six dozen, including a dozen mini GF cupcakes for Jane.
Cupcakes: psychedlic, banana with a milk chocolate frosting, chocolate zucchini with a strawberry yogurt icingThis is when I harassed people into letting me take their picture with the cupcakes
Thank heavens my friend (and Jane’s maid-of-honour) Kristina drove me.
What you can't see is that there is ANOTHER tray on the other side of me
I am happy to say there was only one cupcake casualty throughout the entire, 45 minute drive to Jane’s house. It was in the last 100 metres of our journey, and happened when a banana cupcake decided to pull a tumbleweed and roll down onto my lap. Thank heavens the seat belt and my iPhone braced the fall. Hilary: 0, icing on iPhone: 3.
Congratulations again to Jane and Jake. Your wedding was beautiful and I wish you two all the happiness in the world.
Here are some more sights from the afternoon wedding…
Maid-of-honour and good friend Kristina, looking gorgeousJust when the wedding couldn't get any better, we were told there were s'mores. This one had a Reese's Cup in it.Another old co-worker, Natalie, and her boyfriend TylerThis is three seconds from Jane's house. On her property. Woah.
Hilary Makes 