Looking at love and conflict inside our relationships

I wonder if I can make some interesting connection between Father's Day and our trip to the theatre to see She said/He said. Probably not so I won't even try.

The play is our second in the Stages Festival of Eastern Front Theatre. Last week, I told you about Unconscious at the Sistine Chapel. They are two very different experiences.

She said/He said is the creation of Anne-Marie Woods, an award winning multi-disciplinary artist — an arts educator, producer, director and creative consultant. With roots in London, England and Trinidad, her life and career have had no regional boundaries. I think of her as a poet and a spoken word performer but I also remember her beautiful singing voice from when she was part of the a cappella group, Four the Moment.

SHE is a Black woman asking real questions about life. HE is a Black man searching for meaning and understanding. Together, they fight to make their relationship last in a world where “the rules” are always changing.

A fusion of personal experiences and fiction… playwright Anne-Marie Woods conveys in this new work the vulnerability felt in romantic relationships and the importance of communication.

Through compelling monologues, poetry and song, the female/male rapport is laid bare in this tragicomic battle of wits. She Said/He Said is a fresh and nuanced look at relationships through a script that cleverly meanders through the present and past experiences of its two main characters. Where time is subjective, the fourth wall is intermittently torn down… and location though specific is universal. Woods has taken a non-conventional approach to telling a modern day love story.

HE is played by Neville Coke.

Neville is a Toronto born actor and singer of Jamaican and Barbados heritage.

The play is a mixture of dialogue and individual reflection as each of the characters play out the conflicts they feel within the relationship. Some of the emotion they express is common to many relationships; some are related to family and culture that are specific to this couple. A lot about love is universal and it's very easy to get drawn into the lives of others with all their similarities and differences. It's just the kind of thing I enjoy.

Because we were going out, I had announced earlier in the day that we wouldn't have a fancy dinner for Father's Day. But after thinking it over, I changed my mind. We're Spaniards at heart and usually eat dinner around 9:00 p.m. but I thought it would be nice to eat early — a late lunch, let's say — around 4:00 p.m. And because it was a nice day, we had our first meal of the season on the deck.

Usually if we have steak, we have a rather modest piece of meat which we slice diagonally, put on a platter, and share. But every now and then, Dan likes a nice steak all his own. If not on Father's Day, when?

William may look relaxed but he's always on guard when he's outside, on the watch for flying creatures. He doesn't like bees. Or wasps. Or anything that could be a bee or a wasp.

It wasn't really a fancy dinner/lunch but I did make some molten brownies. I even whipped the cream to put on top.

Those brownies are so easy, I can't really take much credit.

Dinner with HM: delicious, delectable, maybe Eggs Drumkilbo

The new month on the calendar that hangs over my desk looks quite delicious and delectable.

It's a Blackcurrant Sorbet, particularly fashionable during the reign of George IV (1820–30) but still served at Buckingham Palace today.

I picked my calendar up when we visited one of the palace gift shops during our trip to England last fall. The calendar is colourful and elegant, adapted from a recent royal cookbook — 12 gorgeous photos of mostly sophisticated dishes that are served at State Dinners but are also enjoyed by the family.

The cookbook and calendar both use the same cover — a photogenic rhubarb and white chocolate parfait. In some of my browsing, I read that it seems like an unusual combination but the tart rhubarb and the sweet white chocolate go very nicely together. We're always looking for new ways to use rhubarb so maybe I'll add this to the list.

Another of their pretty desserts is coming up in September and is called Sablé Breton with English Strawberries and Lemon Cream. It sure sounds good and if you make it at your house, it probably isn't compulsory for it to look like this:

It's not a terribly complicated recipe although it calls for 2 250g punnets of strawberries.

A punnet is a small box for the gathering and sale of fruit and vegetables, typically small berries. The word is largely confined to Commonwealth countries and is of uncertain origin, but is thought to be a diminutive of "pun", a British dialect word for pound, from the days in which such containers were used as a unit of measurement or from the name of Reginald Crundall Punnett (1875–1967), a geneticist and grower of strawberries who used to sell them in the London market in a small chip basket.

One of the more eccentric dishes showed up for the month of April. It's called Eggs Drumkilbo and I wasn't surprised to read that it was a favourite of Queen Elizabeth the Queen Mother.

The story goes that one night, back in the 1950s, some guests arrived late at Drumkilbo House, long after dinner had been cleared away and the owner of the house, Lord Elphinstone, asked his cook to feed his guests with whatever she could put together.

In the fridge she found some leftover lobster, there were some eggs which she hard-boiled, prawns and tomatoes. However, with the addition of anchovy sauce, Tabasco, stock, gelatine and mayonnaise — a dish to be proud of was born. So much so, that Lord Elphinstone served it to his neighbour and aunt, the Queen Mother, who immediately got her chef to copy the recipe and include it within their repertoire of dishes.

Eggs Drumkilbo is a magnificent dish, combining Scottish seafood with haute cuisine, or to put it another way, it is like a posh prawn cocktail and egg mayonnaise all wrapped into one!

I can see that Eggs Drumkilbo might be quite tasty.

I had asparagus for dinner today. Ours was steamed until just fork-tender, then plunged into cold water so it would stay nice and green. It was then tossed with halved cherry tomatoes, minced garlic, a chiffonade of fresh basil leaves and a little olive oil. It was beautiful asparagus and I think Her Majesty would have liked it.

Hers, however, looks like this:

Her chef says it's a spectacular starter. It's made to look like a crown and the extra flavours added are crab and mango.

Another cook says:

The asparagus is lightly cooked and then lined into metal rings to create a crown like, circular shape. The middle is filled with crabmeat, mango, chives, lemon and lime before being topped with salad leaves dressed in a lemon vinaigrette. It’s lifted carefully out of the rings and tied together with chives.

I've only scratched the surface of the royal menus but as the months go by and I turn my calendar pages, I'll probably be inspired to return to this subject.

Lobster? Rhubarb? It must be a spring-time birthday

It isn't that we don't like the month of May; we definitely do. It's just that when it's over, we're surprised and thankful that we've survived it once again.

Just to remind you, here are the cards that have ended up on our mantelpiece over the past month:

Here's a different view, same cards:

And here's one, with Grizzly "helping" because cats always "help" in these situations:

We started with Mother's Day on May 8. We celebrated my birthday on May 14 — a lovely birthday.

We marked our 28th wedding anniversary on May 26 with a low-key enjoyable celebration.

And as the calendar ticked down, it was Dan's birthday yesterday. It was a milestone birthday and we had special friends join us to make a simple party fun and memorable.

Valerie tried to get Dan to make a speech; he didn't but he was gracious about it.

(Photo by Valerie Mansour)

Friends Claude (Goulet), Lynn (Stewart) and Douglas (Blackmore) listened politely.

(Photo by Valerie)

We had lots of cheese and paté and olives and crackers and some of Chuck Hughes' no-knead bread but even when you're keeping things simple, if you tell people there will be lobster rolls, that becomes the high point. Because I always like to have things done in advance, I spread the making of the lobster roll filling over a couple of days. Shelling the lobster is the most time-consuming so I shelled a bit on Friday and a bit on Saturday. It's hard work but someone has to do it.

The lobster rolls were do-it-yourself. Here's Lynn.

And while everyone likes a lobster roll, I thought the cake would be well-received also. It was made (by me) with luscious fresh rhubarb that Valerie brought from Amherst. Valerie is very generous with rhubarb throughout the season and it's become an annual challenge to come up with new recipes to enjoy the tart treat. We've made cakes and crisps and crumbles. We've made chutneys and savoury sauces and muffins. We've made jams and jellies. Pies, of course.

This was the latest creation:

William did the honours and we all sang lustily.

(That's William and I and Cousin Dale — photo by Valerie.)

And Dan took care of the candles:

He did a lovely job of cutting and serving:

Valerie seemed to enjoy her cake and Ann (Roman) opted for take-out. She was going to take her cake to work for lunch the next day.

And that's about it. It was a joyous occasion and I know we were all happy to fête Dan on his birthday. After the guests left, he decided that he might as well finish the Prosecco — a sparkling wine — because if he didn't, it would go flat. Then he listened to La Traviata from the Metropolitan Opera and he listened to it nice and loud.

So with the month of May once again behind us, we have a good six months to prepare for the next family birthday when William turns 22 in November.

The small things that make us happy

So many unpleasant and disheartening things have been happening over the past while, I decided to think of pleasant things that made me feel good.

Many years ago, I worked at Maimonides Hospital and Home for the Aged in Montreal. I wrote about it here, Miracle of Miracles. Our patients there were visited once a week by their doctor and one of the doctors was Herb Blumer. I liked Dr. Blumer so much. He was a great pleasure to work with.

Years later — just a couple of years ago — I was watching the Food Network Canada and happened upon one of the strange shows hosted by Bob Blumer. His shows were The Surreal Gourmet, Glutton for Punishment and World's Weirdest Restaurants. He's a cook and cookbook author but not a chef. He's got such a sweet face, I had a hard time choosing a picture to go with this little story.

I knew Bob is from Montreal and I decided to get in touch with him. I went to his website and found his contact information.

On Wed, Apr 10, 2013 at 8:33 PM, Sharon Fraser wrote:

Hi Bob:

This question doesn’t fit into any of your categories but I thought I’d ask anyway – just out of curiousity.

I spent much of my young adulthood in Montreal — I was a nurse, trained at the Montreal General Hospital – and worked as a head nurse for a number of years at Maimonides Hospital and Home for the Aged (as it was known then). The doctor I worked with — and had such a good time knowing — was Dr. Herb Blumer.

And of course, my question is: is he your father? As soon as I began to think he might be, you began to look more and more like him! It’s quite a few years ago now but I still remember how his visits to our elderly patients was a real highlight of our week. He was such fun.

So. . .if he is your father, this is probably of some interest to you. If he isn’t — well, carry on. I’ll continue to watch you on television!

All the best,

Sharon

As you see, I wrote that note at 8:30 one evening. When I came down the next morning, he had replied.

From: bob blumer

Sent: Thursday, April 11, 2013 4:11 AM

To: Sharon Fraser

Subject: Re: Website Inquiry

sharon,

thanks for your note. my dad (who was featured on 2 episodes of my show surreal gourmet) was jack blumer. he was very special, very lovable, and very memorable—but not the doctor who you worked with. that said, i am happy that another blumer made such an impression on you :)

best dishes,

bob

It doesn't take much, does it? It was sweet of Bob to answer; so many people wouldn't have bothered. It would have been interesting if Dr. Blumer had turned out to be Bob's Dad but I did love what he wrote about his own father — so proud and loving. I'd like to see those episodes that featured his Dad.

I was thinking of another Food Network Canada chef today as I made Chuck Hughes' no-knead bread. Chuck's series on the Food Network — Chuck's Day Off and Chuck's Week Off in Mexico — are both fun. He's a chef who loves food and loves to cook.

His bread can be made in several variations: you can add garlic and herbs, or cheese. He also occasionally adds spices and raisins and turns it into a tea-bread.

I just made it plain today:

It couldn't be easier and as far as I can tell, it's pretty much fail-proof. You just mix it up, let it rise, scoop it into the bread pans, let it rise again and bake it. Beautiful.

Of course, if you really need to exert some force to get rid of frustration, a no-knead recipe is not a good choice for you. But if you're feeling pretty good and you just want some nice bread right out of the oven, go ahead. Be my guest.

It's easy as pie — and that's pretty easy

My mother was really good at making bread and making pastry. She was good at other things too — not just baking — but bread and pastry are two of the fundamentals that it's really important to master.

She taught me the basics of bread and pastry but I'm afraid one of the things I came away with was her tendency to suggest I add a little of this, maybe a little of that and when I rather impatiently asked how I was supposed to know how much to add, her famous last words were always, "You'll know by the feel of it."

It's many years later but I now know why she said that and yes, I do know by the feel of it.

I still talk to people all the time who tell me they can't make a pie crust. I understand that because I couldn't, for the longest time. I remember the tears of frustration when I was trying to roll out a sheet of pastry and it was breaking apart and sticking to the rolling pin and splitting in the middle. I remember putting it into the pie plate in pieces and splicing it together and using a wet thumb to try and patch it into submission.

What a mess. You might get away with it if you were making a one-crust pie and you were going to cover that disaster with a tasty filling but if you were set on an apple pie with a top crust, you were right out of luck.

I regularly saw — in magazines or newspapers or cookbooks — the promise of a recipe for a "no-fail-pie-crust." All fake, believe me.

But then one day, my luck changed. I was telling you a few weeks ago about a little set of cookbooks I'd found called, The Wonderful World of Cooking. Each of the four books contained recipes from different parts of the world and in this one, I found what I'd been looking for:

On page 238, with no country's name attached, is a recipe for "Pastry for 9-inch pie." There are four ingredients, such basic ingredients, they're right at your fingertips. You barely have to move five steps in your kitchen to assemble them.

They are: 1 cup flour, ½ tsp. salt, 1/3 cup shortening, 3-4 tablespoons cold water.

What could be simpler, right? How could I not do this?

The first thing I'll advise is, obey the recipe when it says "cold." Make sure your shortening is cold right out of the fridge and put an ice cube in your little glass of water.

And get one of these:

This made all the difference.

The second thing I would advise is: don't pay attention if the recipe says "blend shortening and dry ingredients until it resembles small peas." What does that even mean? Just work the shortening into the flour until the shortening is all incorporated.

When it comes to adding the ice water, this is where Mum would say, "You'll be able to tell by the feel of it." Of course, she was right. I know that now and I could say the same thing but I try to avoid it.

The recipe says 3-4 tablespoons. I sprinkle about three tablespoons over the flour mixture and mix lightly with a fork. When I suspect I'm close, I pinch a bit of the dough between thumb and forefinger. It shouldn't be sticky but it should stick together. You might have to use all four tablespoons. Remember that you shouldn't over-handle it but it should "come together" and not crumble. Recipes always say to chill before you roll and I guess that's a good idea. I don't always though — depends on whether I have time.

If you've played all your cards right and the stars have aligned, you should be able to roll your pastry into a ball, pat it into a disc, sprinkle some flour on to it, and get out the rolling pin. And let the rolling pin do the work. Don't lean too heavily.

And here's your final product.

Or maybe this. (These are apple and mincemeat.)

This really is the most basic and, I would say, fool-proof pastry recipe there is. If you think you can't make a pie, I urge you to try it and let me know it worked.

Once you've mastered it, you will know the feel of it and you can work in some variations: maybe you'd prefer lard or butter to the shortening. For a savoury pie, you can stir in some grated cheese and some herbs. You can be your creative self and feel a great sense of accomplishment at the same time.

Bon appétit!

Soup's on: making the most of delicious leftovers

We're very good to make lots of homemade stock at our house. Every bone and uneaten meat scrap that passes through our kitchen goes by way of the stock pot. They all go into the freezer first and when there are enough of them to make it worth-while, they get boiled up.

The stock is strained and put into the fridge where the fat rises to the top and solidifies. We take the fat off, put the stock (if it's rich enough, it will have gelled) into ice cube trays and then transfer the frozen cubes into a zip-lock bag where they're handy for making sauces, gravies, stews.

Every now and then though, soup is the only reasonable end product of the stock-making process.

One of our Easter dishes this year was a delectable bone-in, local, organic, smokey ham. This is how it looked the day we served it:

on the counter

on the table

We've had some good meals with the ham since Easter — with pasta, potato scallop, in sandwiches — but it was time for its final act.

Yesterday, I boiled the ham-bone and all the scraps which had been conscientiously saved. The stock went onto the fridge, the fat was taken off, and it was time to make a traditional split pea soup.

I'm one of the people who got one of Jamie Oliver's utility knives in the recent coupon-collecting promotion. It's the one on the upper right (above) and on the left (below). I really like it but the serrated knife has been a favourite for a long time. I also have a large chef-style chopping knife but the truth is, I find it big and it doesn't suit my hand as well as these smaller ones.

I always forget how long it takes to soften those dried peas and if I had it to do again, I'd start them earlier. In fact, if I had it to do again, I'd soak them overnight and then start them earlier.

Everything worked out though. I used the immersion blender and the soup was smooth but still had some texture.

Before serving, I added some chopped ham that had fallen off the bone after the boiling.

It was hearty and filling and we both enjoyed it. I served it with fresh biscuits. This is not a new photo but the biscuits looked much the same today as they did the day this was taken.

I hope you had something satisfying and tasty today. I had fun, not only cooking but taking most of these photos! (Dan took a few also.) I won't do it every day but it's fun now and then.

A loaf of bread, the Walrus said, is what we chiefly need*

Bread has a long and interesting history and I don't mean just at my house. It's been around for thousands of years in various forms and it's one of the foods that is found in every culture.

I'm one of the people who really likes bread. I would be terribly disappointed if something happened that prevented me from eating a bit of bread at least once a day.

It's interesting that such a simple food can occur in such variety. Unless you get fancy, for a leavened bread there are six basic ingredients: flour, water, salt, oil, yeast and sugar. Mix them together in a certain way and they make magic.

I made some bread yesterday:

This recipe is called "Crusty French Bread" and that's how it turned out. It's pretty good — I like it better very lightly toasted. It seems to bring out a bit more flavour. But is is crusty and it has a nice chewy texture. It's the first time I've made this particular recipe.

I have most often made what we think of in our culture as a "traditional" bread — but of course in every culture, the go-to bread is "traditional" as far as they're concerned.

But this is what I mean by "traditional":

I've written about bread before — right here and I went into more detail about this very bread and its history with me.

Another bread I occasionally make is Chef Chuck Hughes no-knead bread. It's fast and delicious and sometimes, that's just what we're looking for.

I probably wouldn't have taken a photo except one of the most recent times I made this bread, it came out looking like a pound cake. It's one of the breads that turns our differently every time you make it. I don't know why. Atmospheric conditions?

We only eat bread with a certain kind of meal but I do enjoy a piece of toast with my morning coffee and the occasional sandwich. I do like to think of it as the staff of life.

---

*From The Walrus and The Carpenter by Lewis Carroll.

A sweet taste of our history

When we were eating the Valentine's Day dinner earlier this week, William, who's 21, said — as he was dipping fresh biscuits into a small bowl of molasses — "I don't know why people complain that they had to eat molasses as children because they were poor. Molasses is awesome!"

We all agreed because the biscuits and molasses were one of the highlights of the meal.

Later, William asked where molasses comes from and we talked about that a bit. But today, I looked up a few more details.

Of course, being Maritimers, we've always insisted on Crosby's molasses:

In 1879, at the tender age of 20, Lorenzo George Crosby opened a grocery business in the bustling port town of Yarmouth, Nova Scotia. An enterprising youth, L.G. quickly established himself as an entrepreneur in the import/export trade industry, transporting Maritime fish and lumber to the West Indies and returning with puncheons filled with that “liquid gold” known as fancy molasses. And so the Crosby Molasses Company was born. The rest, as they say, is sweet history. In 1897, Crosby Molasses relocated to Saint John, New Brunswick—a larger, more centrally-located harbour town.

Molasses was a staple in our house growing up. Dad always liked a sweet after dinner and if there were no cookies or cake or a piece of pie, he would have a slice of bread (homemade, of course) and a small bowl of molasses and he considered that a dessert fit for a King.

Dan's brother John also enjoys biscuits in a bowl with some molasses poured over as a sweet treat. In fact, when we go to Chives where Chef Craig Flinn has popularized fresh biscuits with molasses, John always saves his until the end of the meal and woe to the server who tries to take it away in a regular table-clearing move.

In many houses — including my Auntie Blanche's in Newcastle Creek, where we always ate so well — molasses was on the table with the salt and pepper, a bowl of sugar, maybe a small pot of mustard. I remember it on the table in some restaurants also in this kind of dispenser:

We always have a carton of molasses in our cupboard. It's mostly used for the Christmas baking — dark fruitcake, the fruchtplätzchen cookies I make every year.

My mother always used it when she was making baked beans from scratch, in a crock like this:

I've made baked beans in a crock but, like Mum, I discovered it's a lot easier and less time-consuming to open a can. Even with the can though, I sometimes fry some onions and bacon, add a little mustard, tomato sauce and molasses and stir that into beans from a can. It surely tarts them up and makes them much more exciting.

I didn't used to be good baking biscuits. I envied those people who could bake them so they'd rise nice and high and be nice and light. Mine weren't. Dan's late Mom told me I probably didn't have my oven hot enough. But I've stopped making the kind that you roll and cut out into circles. The ones I make now are dropped from a spoon on to the baking sheet and the bumpy irregular tops get nice and brown and crunchy. They seem to rise just fine. Sometimes I put cheese and/or herbs into them and sometimes I don't.

Oh yes, to answer William's original question:

Molasses is made from the juice extracted from mature sugar cane. It is then clarified and evaporated to the consistency of a syrup, possessing a rich colour and a sweet-tart taste. The molasses is then fine-filtered and pasteurized resulting in a pure, sweet product.

There is only one ingredient listed on the Crosby’s Molasses carton: molasses. That’s because molasses is a pure product with absolutely no additives or preservatives. Molasses is a source of many minerals. It is a natural, wholesome sweetener and is a delicious addition to sweet and savoury recipes.