2. The intriguing story of how I spend my days

I made a start at telling you about some of the things I do during my day — what I'm reading, what I'm watching, what I'm listening to. If you missed it, it's right here. Here's some more of my day.

What am I cooking/eating?

I eat a fruit salad every morning with my second cup of coffee. Dan makes each of us a fruit salad every morning: oranges, grapefruit, apple, pineapple, grapes, a seasonal fruit — right now it's strawberries — and we add our own banana just before eating. This is not ours but it looks pretty close.

I used to make the fruit salad last thing at night but a couple of years ago, I had extensive dental surgery and was out of commission for a few weeks. Dan took it over and he's been doing it ever since. I've offered to take it back but so far, he's keeping it.

Over the winter, we get citrus orders through a fund-raising arrangement so we have particularly delicious oranges and grapefruit from November through April.

I like to cook, as you know, but I also complain a lot about being in a rut and being bored with my repertoire. When it gets too bad — my boredom and complaining — we order out. Most recently, we've ordered from Blue Olive, a Greek restaurant. I had Chicken Souvlaki which I almost always have. This image is taken from their online menu and I'd say it's a good likeness:

Succulent chicken on skewers with tzatziki, lemon-roasted potatoes, rice, Greek salad — a wonderful dinner and I didn't have to do a thing.

I do try to prepare and eat healthful things — we eat lots of vegetables (and fruit, of course!) and we try to abide by whatever food rules make sense to us, not necessarily the food rules that are in fashion at any given time.

I do have a couple of vices which I will confess to as they're quite small. In the late afternoon, I like a small bowl (I said small!) of potato chips — Lay's regular. I have them with a small glass of Italian lemon soda. And late at night, I like a small bowl of ice cream — always Sensations Caramel-O.

I said small vices. They could be worse, eh?

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.

Dinner is served – pass the chopsticks please

Do you think our dinner met the Canada Food Guide requirements for servings of vegetables?

I always feel quite virtuous when I'm working on a home-style stir-fry. Standing there chopping all those vegetables definitely feels worth it when they're all arranged, waiting for the wok.

A couple of months ago, I wrote about wok cooking and I shared the two cookbooks that first introduced me to Chinese/Asian-style cooking.

I give these books every credit for helping me with the basics for last night's dinner – the marinade for the chicken which becomes the sauce in the wok which becomes the vehicle to accompany those vegetables to cover the rice!

I used chicken breast cut into one-inch chunks. To the bowl, I added lots of minced garlic, fresh chopped ginger, then a bit of safflower oil, rice vinegar, pomegranate molasses, chili oil, sesame oil, fish sauce, oyster sauce and soy sauce. I can't tell you how much – I've been making this dish for a long time and I've figured it out over the years.

After the chicken sits in the marinade for awhile and when the rice is almost done – a sticky rice, usually Cal-rose here – it's time to heat the wok. I don't like it smoking hot but let's say moderately hot.

I use safflower oil for this part also and, of course, I throw in the veg in the order of the length of time they need to cook. When the veg are tender crisp (I usually hold the broccoli florets out until the bitter end so they'll stay nice and green) I push everything aside and dump in the chicken and the marinade. I let the chicken monopolize the centre of the wok for a few minutes. I stir it. It doesn't take long to cook.

Because stir-frying is an intense experience, I didn't take any photos of each separate vegetable being added; neither did I summon my photographer. But before you knew it, we had reached this point. The rice is in the small pot.

The last step is adding the vermicelli. It's a rice vermicelli that I'd poured boiling water over five minutes before adding. The second last step was adding a tiny bit of corn starch, stirred into a small amount of cold water.

And here it is, just before it was placed into a serving bowl and taken to the table.

There were accolades all around and if I do say so myself, it was quite tasty.

Mustard: the tangy edgy condiment

I was born in Newcastle Creek, New Brunswick, on the shores of Grand Lake, and I lived there until I was five years old. Newcastle Creek was a hamlet. The nearest village — the place with a few stores and services and small businesses — was Minto.

When I was a tiny girl, my mother used to take my sister (she's four years older) and me to Minto on the bus — I can still smell the exhaust fumes from that rickety old bus — so she could do some shopping, get her hair done, maybe visit a relative.

Sometimes, she would take us to the lunch counter in the five-and-ten and we could order whatever we wanted. I remember Marilyn ordering a banana split or a sundae and Mum probably had some tea, maybe with a piece of pie.

I always ordered a mustard sandwich.

The waitress and/or my mother would always try to get me to add something to the sandwich but I graciously declined. I didn't want any ham or lettuce or even a piece of chicken.

I loved mustard sandwiches.

I think Mum was a little embarrassed but at least the waitress knew that I was allowed to order something else if I wanted to. I doubt that mustard sandwiches were on the menu so I don't know how they figured out what to charge. Probably the same price as a side order of toast.

I still love mustard and although I definitely have that squeeze bottle of French's, I've branched out into lots of different mustards.

When I'm in a tourist-y type town and we go to one of those lovely little shops that have local crafts and souvenirs and specialty foods, I always gravitate immediately to the mustard section. People have learned to bring me mustard as gifts too. Dan brought me this one from a trip to Saskatchewan for meetings:

The Saskatoon berry looks like a blueberry but it's related to the apple and its mustard is, indeed, fruity and delicious. I've used it in vinaigrettes but it's also good in marinades for meat or chicken or to brighten up a sauce.

Valerie brought me this one from Dijon, France:

It's mustard with figs and it's sweet and. . . figgy. I used it most recently at Easter as a base for a glaze for the leg of lamb:

It wasn't the only mustard I used for Easter dinner. The vegetables were actually called "Mustard Roasted Vegetables."

As you can imagine, the mustard — along with lemon juice and zest — added a sharp, tangy edge to the vegetables. The mustard of choice for this recipe was grainy:

I have other mustards in my pantry:

The seeds and the powder are used mostly for pickles although I have done some experimenting mixing the powder with various ingredients to make a condiment with a difference. Dan and I can both remember a comprehensive search all over town looking for brown mustard seeds. We can't quite remember what they were for but we think it must have been for a chutney and we must have decided that yellow seeds just wouldn't cut it.

I think that it's a rare day that I don't use mustard for something — sometimes just to give the boys a hot dog, other times to add an elegant finishing touch to a sauce or salad. I'm delighted to know that yellow mustard is not coloured by something awful and artificial but gets it bright hue from turmeric, a spice that happens to be good for us. I've learned — from 13 things you probably didn't know about mustard — that the ancient Egyptians, Greeks and Romans all used mustard. It's believed that the Romans were first to pound the seeds into a paste to use as a condiment. Trust the Romans.

And even though the mustard bottle may say Dijon, France, mustard is a plant — an herb — and much of it that's used around the world is grown in Canada.

So there you are: more than you ever wanted to know about my relationship with mustard!