Bacon and egg stuffed crepes (indulge, you know you want to)

June 19, 2012June 17, 2012 ~ Hilary ~ 3 Comments

My parents were out of town this weekend, so naturally I made the most over-the-top breakfast I could think of. I love my family, but when it comes to eating, they are not patient. They cannot even begin to fathom why it may take longer than 30 minutes to prepare breakfast, when one can so easily opt for cereal or porridge.

Bacon and egg stuffed crepes5 — My brother, thrilled to be in my presence, clearly.

They would not have tolerated the hour-long preparation for these crepes – but I’m here to tell you why you should. The short answer? Because they were freakin’ awesome. And because if you love brunch even half as much as I do, then these will blow your mind (related: since moving away from Ottawa I am so brunch deprived!).

The over-the-top description is not just because of the time they took to make, either. Oh no. The ingredients were also of heart-stopping decadence. I might have made the crepes on a pan greased with…bacon fat.

Oh god. Still here? Good. Phew. I was sure you would have jumped up and gone running away from your computer shrieking “she has turned into a fat-loving, cholesterol-raising Paula Deeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeen.” Or something like that.

If my dietician mom had been here on Saturday, she never, EVER would have let me serve these. She practically disowned me when I told her I fried potatoes in duck fat (STILL THE BEST THING EVER). But you know what? Indulging is okay every once in awhile. As my friend Christine put it over Facebook, this meal was “very eastern European of me.” I couldn’t help it. The bacon fat was just sitting on the counter, looking all forlorn in a little glass bowl. It brought a tear to my eye.

Well, now that the confessional is over…

Making crepes was an adventure. I’ve only ever sort-of made crepes before, back at the end of third year (two years ago, but who’s counting?) when my friend Alan (yes, the one mentioned in the recent pizza post) came to visit me in Ottawa. And by sort-of made, I mean that Alan totally made them, and I stood by the side of the stove in awe as the eggy mixture somehow formed into something that resembled a pancake.

It really wasn’t that bad, and so I will update my Twitter status in which I said that making crepes for the first time was “a terrifying experience.” Terrifying is not the right word, so I hereby revise it to instead say “exhilarating.”

Yes, crepe making is exhilarating. How do you guys get your thrills?

The first crepe was filled with unsure, jolty movements, burnt fingers and hesitation.

Bacon and egg stuffed crepes6 — Not too shabby

Then I learned – crepes are not delicate. No, no, no, crepes are tough cookies that can be flipped and turned in one fluid, not-too-graceful motion. Crepes almost have a sense of elasticity to them, and in mid-flip you can let the sides hang off the spatula and jiggle about before landing on the pan again. It’s all very exciting.

Anyways, these were completely unreal. Thanks to Pinterest and this recipe for the eggs-in-a-crepe basket inspiration. A major breakfast win.

Side note: I am very excited to have been able to achieve a semi-nice brown base for these photos. Thank you, upside down place mats.

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Funfetti sprinkle cookies

June 17, 2012June 16, 2012 ~ Hilary ~ 12 Comments

So these cookies were fun.

I was browsing Tastespotting on my iPad the other day (a truly enjoyable experience, it seems like this food gallery site is optimized to be viewed perfectly on a tablet) when I saw a picture of these cookies. An hour later, I was making the recipe.

I know they look fairly childish and, like nearly everything else on this blog, prepared for a maniacal troop of five-year-old birthday-goers. This is something my mom brought up with me the other week. That’s right, we had the “people at work might not want to eat colourful things” conversation. I was sad for about 10 minutes after that, before realizing that I would make whatever I wanted. Things I make – colourful or not – always seem to disappear with quite a bit of ease, and so I maintain: things can look like a rainbow and still taste delicious. Case closed.

Anyways, the result of my baking was these beautiful little morsels that I thought resembled homemade Chips Ahoy cookies. They had almond extract in them, which was absolutely the best. If I was the type of person to include weird qualities about myself in my Twitter status, one of them would definitely be “something, something LOVES ALMOND EXTRACT.”

I brought these into the newsroom on Friday so we could all pig out during story meeting. Story meetings are more productive when cookies are provided: fact.

I also made a point to wear the sprinkle headband that I made back in March. I always thought it was channeling a Tim Hortons vanilla dip doughnut, but it turns out that these cookies were the true inspiration. Check it out…matching baking and head ware – it’s all the rage!

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Gourmet pizza party (five ways)! And a visit from a friend!

June 9, 2012June 15, 2012 ~ Hilary ~ 4 Comments

Hey all, sorry about the week-long hiatuses recently. I’m still trying to get into the groove of working full-time and living at home, and as such have been finding it hard to blog.

But anyways, this weekend dinner happened.

You know the drill, once in awhile you just need to have a pizza party. Saturday was one of those days. And, since I believe pizza parties are synonymous with socializing, it was perfect that my friend Alan was in town from Montreal to help prepare dinner.

Doesn’t he look like a piece of Microsoft clipart in that right-hand photo?

Now you should know that when it comes to food, I refuse to make the same thing twice (okay, except black bean burgers and other truly delicious concoctions). This kitchen motto especially applies to foods like pasta and pizza, where the traditional serving method of tomato and bread must (a) be avoided or (b) be creatively spiffed up in one way or the other. And so, the evening became a gourmet pizza party. Heck yes.

In addition to three types of cheese (a mozzarella ball, provolone and goat cheese – really, the most expensive part of any pizza), Alan and I had a whole pile of toppings to choose from.

With so many options available, I suggested we draw sketches of our pizza (I like visualizing food on paper), though this exercise quickly dissolved into a lesson about the components of DNA (seriously, don’t give a chemistry masters student the chance to draw diagrams), reminiscing about graduation after-parties and a conversation about Nunavut food prices (something that I’m actually reporting on tomorrow).

And so, when pizza making time finally came around, it was time to improvise.

We ended up making five different kinds:
1. White bean sauce with yellow/orange peppers, mozzarella, goat cheese, oregano and sliced Italian sausage (inspired by a white bean stew I saw on the Internet);
2. Tomato paste with peppers, shaved chicken and artichoke with mozzarella;
3. Alan’s “Italian style” pizza with tomato basil sauce, red onion, portobello mushrooms and Italian sausage;
4. Pesto with sautéed portobello mushrooms and red onions, inspired by this former Hilary Makes creation; AND our most creative and off-beat pizza of the evening…
5. A banana pizza with hot sauce, mozzarella and balsamic vinegar, the idea for which was snagged from Alan’s banana omelette recipe (yes, actually a thing). We weren’t originally going to make this one, but after my dad made such a fuss about not wanting banana on his pizza, we had no choice but to go against his will.

PS: I am typing this blog post on my new iPad!! Exciting, huh? The keyboard is pretty much the same size as the one on my MacBook, except there is less force required to tap the keys and my iPad doesn’t overheat on my thighs while I’m sitting on my bed. It also has autocorrect just like my iPhone, so that when I’m too lazy to capitalize words or add apostrophes to things, it fixes them for me. Correctly or incorrectly, I’ll never tell. Damn You Autocorrect, anyone?

Saturdays in Sudbury: Exploration as the cure to all that ails

June 3, 2012 ~ Hilary ~ 111 Comments

Last Saturday I was throwing a little pity party for myself. Slumped over my laptop with the darkness of my bedroom clinging to my pyjamas, I was looking at all the tweets coming from Ottawa’s infamous Great Glebe Garage Sale. Each 140-character message summoned a fond memory from the past two years that I attended. I was brewing the finest of sadness serums.

And then I made the following decisions: I needed to get out of the house. I needed to put normal clothes on. I needed to stop feeling sorry for myself.

So, adventuring I did go.

If there is one thing I can say about myself, it’s that I’m one lucky explorer. I am drawn to fun city happenings whether I mean to be or not. And that’s quite super.

I parked my bike in one of the cute, vegetable-inspired bike racks outside of Market Square and started my morning by strolling around the gardening festival.

I smelled petunias and mint, ran my fingers along the zig-zagged edge of ridged leaves, and got a tiny red pine seedling to plant in my backyard.

What came next was a pleasant surprise.

There was a flurry of activity on a street block downtown – the section where Larch Street meets Durham at Elgin, for those of you who know Sudbury. This mystery event was the perfect remedy to my earlier sadness. It was a yard sale.

I walked up and down the one block stretch of tables at least half a dozen times, closing my eyes and pretending that it was something bigger. There was a barbeque and a kettle corn stand, a man selling a plethora of over-priced vintage do-dads at his two tables. I would have sold my soul for this old globe.

My favourite table belonged to Hannah, a grade eight student at Churchill Public School. Her table was a message in a bottle station – a display leftover from an entrepreneur fair that was held in her school’s gym. She proudly told me that she made $75 that day. I couldn’t help but buy a message in a bottle. When I was her age I had a potpourri “shop” in my neighbours shed. I used to collect wildflowers and grasses from the nearby ravine, stuff them down the neck of leftover wine bottles, and force my parents to buy them for $5 to put on display near our whirlpool. Hannah appealed the sense of whimsy and determination that I had when I was her age, and have continued to foster today. Just take my $1.50, already. (Side note: the best part of standing by Hannah’s table was watching a grown man purchase a book about dragons. Looks like someone has been watching a little too many Game of Thrones episodes..)

Sundayday1 — Hannah + my message in a bottle

Then came time for me to scribble my message. I carefully selected my writing utensil from a collection of gel pens (also a former love of mine). I chose a glimmering purple ink and outlined my message in neon pink. That’s right. You want to be serious about your message? You sure as hell better write it in unicorn-themed colours.

Hannah rolled up my message around an orange pen and held it together with an elastic band she snapped off a rubber ball. In my message went. I’ll cast this one off at the end of the summer. As for my message, it wasn’t so much a note to some love of my life, but rather a personal wish involving person and place. I’ll just leave it at that.

In the end, this yard sale appealed to my every weakness. Or, more specifically, my weakness for old things that you can re-furbish in creative ways to make something new and unique.

There were gilded gold frames (four for $1)

A collection of Mason jars ($1 each)

A cute floral saucer that now holds my collection of earrings, volcanic rocks and sea shells.

And several more things that I couldn’t get. Including this teal-coloured sewing machine that was being given away for free (!!!!!!).

Sundayday9 — Okay, so I added a yellow tint in Photoshop to make it look a little more rad. But still.

While I have carried many a cake on my bicycle, I thought this 20-pound machine was probably my limit. I walked away. One day I will have a beautiful collection of vintage sewing machines, though. This I promise you.

My downtown adventure ended at the Boulangerie du la Village, where I sat at the makeshift outdoor patio. I sipped my apple lavender broth and contently dunked my fresh, doughy bun into the bowl like a baby being baptized. In my ears, a schizophrenic symphony, a meshing of melodies. Across the street, two girls strummed and sang Van Morrison’s Brown Eyed Girl, with just enough twang to please the crowd. Behind me, jazzy brass runs, making me feel as though I just got lost in Woody Allen’s latest flick.

This really was the perfect morning. Moral of the blog post? Happiness comes when you least expect it – you just have to get off your chair and find it.

Pad Thai-inspired rice wraps with peanut garlic sauce

May 29, 2012May 29, 2012 ~ Hilary ~ 5 Comments

~~Nothing says summer like fresh rice wraps.~~

Nothing SCREAMS summer like fresh rice wraps.

They’re cool, simultaneously light and filling, and beautifully colourful, which makes food photography a breeze. Yes sir, rice wraps are terrific things.

Lately I’ve noticed that my blog has been getting a lot of visits because of people pinning and re-pinning the fresh avocado spring rolls I made almost a year ago to this date. Apparently avocado, rice paper and a pretty wooden cutting board = Pinterest porn. I should never have let that cutting board go. Damn.

Anyways, inspired by this influx of visitors and wanting to fuel the fire even more, I decided to revive the rice wrap. I came upon Alison’s delicious looking vegan summer rolls recipe on Tastespotting, and decided to use it as a starting point for one of my own.

A year of chopping later, and this happened. It’s like one of those colour palette wheels they use on home interior shows. Yes, I’d like my accent wall to be radish red and I’ll take the throw pillows in cucumber green, please.

I decided to make Rice Wraps Round 2.0 pad thai themed because (a) let’s face it, you can never have too much pad thai, and (b) I have not had nearly enough pad thai in my life since I stopped visiting Old Ottawa South’s Siam Kitchen in second year. There was also mango tossed in there for good measure. It was like a thai-mango salad and pad thai all in one. Does it get much better than that, people?

The assembly of these rice wraps reminded me of a messier taco night; seconds of rice paper softening followed by attempts to rapidly stuff the resulting circular membrane with as much vegetables as it would hold.