When she and her husband decide to have eggs and bacon, or maybe some pancakes, instead of more typical supper fare, it’s a treat.

She likes breakfast for breakfast just as much.

So, she was downright gleeful this weekend when she was able to order a full meal deal — eggs, sausage and a tall stack of fluffy pancakes — over the weekend after missing out for many months while living in France. (Coffee and a croissant is just not the same, understandably.)

I never order pancakes when out for breakfast because my tastes lean more toward savoury dishes in the morning. But there was something about that pile of pancakes, topped with melting butter and spilling over with syrup, that was oddly tempting.

When I got home from a weekend away and found my fridge devoid of groceries (as was expected), but, oddly, with a nearly full carton of buttermilk (which I had forgotten about), I knew exactly what I wanted to make.

Not just any Buttermilk Pancakes, but a stack of them speckled with fresh berries and then doused with real maple syrup. Tartness and sweetness packaged together. And maybe with a side of bacon, since I discovered an unopened package of that in my fridge too (a very pleasant surprise).

Although blueberries are the most common pancake addition, I wanted to use tart raspberries, which kind of squish and caramelize when flipped to cook against the hot pan.

They become these little pockets of bright berry colour and flavour, hidden in the golden-tinged fluffiness of the pancake. When right side up, the pancakes don’t reveal their hidden gems.

Also, it seemed a particularly summery addition, since they’re coming back into season.

Breakfast for dinner has many benefits, not the least of which is it’s pretty quick to prepare. Whisk together some flour and leaveners; do the same with buttermilk, eggs and melted butter for some added richness. Mix them together gently, fry and enjoy.

Even better, the trick with pancakes — much like muffins — is the batter shouldn’t be overmixed. It’s not only OK, it’s preferable that it be a bit lumpy.

Once done, the light pancakes spotted with juicy berries were just the right mix of rich and tart, soaked with the sweetness of syrup.

They were enough to make me think I need to adopt my friend’s breakfast-for-dinner plan a little more often.

Berry Buttermilk Pancakes

I like tart raspberries in here, but blueberries would work just as well, or a mix of the two. I like smaller-sized versions rather than plate-sized pancakes — better for stacking — so I use a 1/3-cup measure to pour the batter. If you like a larger pancake, use a 1/2 cup measuring cup; those will fit about two to the pan, depending on its size.

• 2 cups (500 mL) all-purpose flour
• 3 tbsp (35 mL) sugar
• 2 tsp (10 mL) baking powder
• 1 tsp (5 mL) baking soda
• 1/2 tsp (2 mL) salt
• 2 1/2 cups (625 mL) buttermilk
• 2 eggs, lightly beaten
• 1/4 cup (60 mL) butter, melted and cooled, plus more for the pan
• 1 cup (250 mL) raspberries

In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda and salt. In a separate bowl, mix together buttermilk, eggs and melted butter. Add the wet ingredients to the dry and whisk together gently until just combined. There will be some lumps.

Heat a pan over medium-high heat until a bit of water added to the pan bounces and sizzles. Add butter and let melt, swishing around the pan to evenly coat the bottom. Using a 1/3-cup measuring cup or similar sized ladle, pour pancake batter into the pan. (Mine fit about 3 pancakes with some room for flipping.)

Drop four or five raspberries on each pancake and let cook until bubbles form and those at the edges don’t fill in when they pop — about 2 to 3 minutes. Flip the pancakes and let cook for another minute or so.

Remove to a plate and continue cooking the rest of the pancakes.

Makes about 16 pancakes.

They used to intimidate me; one bad batch – which would have been flattered to be called hockey pucks – had me thinking I would never make a successful scone.

Learning Nigella Lawson’s trick of grating frozen butter into the flour was a game changer and now I find them to be one of the easiest, and fastest, things to bake when suddenly craving something sweet to eat with a bit of jam or butter.

They are also one of the most adaptable things to bake: lemon zest and glaze for a spring scone, chocolate or spices for fall, cheese and herbs for a savoury version.

This also makes them perfect for bits and pieces one may find in their baking cupboard.

So, when I discovered a handful of candied ginger leftover from a cupcake project and an uncracked jar of Devonshire cream at the back of the fridge (who impulse buys Devonshire cream? Me, apparently.), it was clearly time to make some scones.

Even if it was 11 at night.

After quickly whisking together the dry ingredients, grate in the frozen butter. This creates the perfect little nuggets of butter easily incorporated in the rest of the dough. When they hit the heat of the oven, they melt, creating the flaky layers that make scones so tender and light.

Sometimes I will cut out my scones, in circles or squares, using biscuit cutters or an upended glass. But other times, I like to just pat the dough into a circle and cut it into wedges for something a bit more rustic . . . and fewer things to wash.

Candied Ginger Scones

• 2 cups (500 mL) flour
• 1/3 cup (80 mL) sugar
• 1 tbsp (15 mL) baking powder
• ¼ tsp (1 mL) salt
• ¼ to ½ cup (60 to 125 mL) candied ginger, chopped
• ½ cup (125 mL) butter, frozen
• ¾ cup (180 mL) cream, plus more for brushing the scone tops.
• 1 egg

 
Preheat oven to 400F (200C).

In a large bowl, mix together flour, sugar, baking powder, salt and chopped ginger. Using the large holes on a box grater, grate the frozen butter into the dry ingredients. With your fingertips, gently toss the flour and butter until thoroughly combined. In a small bowl, mix together egg and cream. Pour into the butter-flour mix and stir until just combined. (Sometimes an extra tablespoon or two of cream is necessary, but the mixture should not be very wet.)

Turn the dough out onto a clean surface and squish together, patting it into a circle about an inch (2.5-cm) thick.

Cut the circle into eight wedges and place on a parchment-lined baking sheet, leaving space between them to grow.

Brush lightly with cream.

Bake for 12 to 15 minutes until golden.

And, with apologies to Shakespeare, it was a far tastier one.

It started with some Lemon Polenta Cookies and an overachieving lemon that gave off copious amounts of juice – far more than necessary for the recipe. It developed when I remembered once seeing a recipe for a different lemon cookie featuring a glazed top — all smooth and pale white, just hinting at the lemon flavour. And it culminated with me mixing up just a bit of a glaze, enough to use up the last of the juice – waste not, want not, after all – and drizzle some of it over a handful of cookies to see which were tastier.

I was first attracted to this recipe after discovering, to my dismay, that I have three packages of finely ground cornmeal in my cupboard – the product of forgetting I have some, buying more and then forgetting again. I had been through a cornbread phase, followed by an actual made-from-scratch polenta phase. And then those bags were forgotten about until a fit of not-quite-spring cleaning.

(Truly, if there is a zombie apocalypse, please come to my apartment. My overly stocked cupboards should keep us fed for the first few months.)

The idea of adding cornmeal to a cookie was intriguing. The result didn’t disappoint.

The addition of cornmeal gives them a slight heartiness, a nuttiness and a nice texture, even though they’re still soft and chewy in the centre.

The zest and lemon juice add lots of bright flavour and the whole recipe comes together quickly.

Unadorned, they were lovely. But there was all that leftover, freshly squeezed and strained juice just asking to be made into a glaze.

So, a glaze I made, drizzling it thickly over the cookies and letting it coat the nubbly surface.

Friends were divided on which they preferred.

As one said, when there is a chance to glaze, the answer is always to glaze.

Another disagreed, noting the plain version of the cookie had a crunchier top, which was preferable.

I ate both – possibly a few times – and still remain completely divided.

Surely, the only solution is to try yourself and see which you prefer.

Lemon Polenta Cookies

• ½ cup (125 mL) finely ground cornmeal
• 1 ½ cups (375 mL) all-purpose flour
• ½ t (2 mL) salt
• ¾ cup (175 mL) butter, softened
• 1 cup (250 mL) sugar
• zest of 1 lemon
• 2 tbsp (30 mL) lemon juice
• 1 egg

Preheat oven to 350.

In a bowl, whisk together the cornmeal, flour and salt. Set aside.

Using a mixer, beat together the butter and sugar until light and fluffy. Add the lemon zest and juice, mixing until incorporated. Beat in the egg.

Add the cornmeal mixture and mix on low speed until just incorporated, about 1 minute or less.

Scoop tablespoon-sized balls of dough onto cookie sheets, allowing room for them to spread a bit.

Bake until just golden at the edges, between 14 and 18 minutes, depending on the size of the dough balls.

Makes 18 to 20 cookies.

Optional Glaze

• ¼ cup (60 mL) icing sugar
• 1 tbsp (15 mL) lemon juice

In a small bowl, mix together the sugar and lemon juice until completely incorporated. Drizzle over cookies.

This should be enough to glaze about half the cookies.

And, while I’m not one to advocate drinking away your sorrows, suffice to say that there were a couple of nights when I got home from work and really felt like I could use a cocktail.

Lately, I’ve been loving the classic Bourbon Old-Fashioned. I had a couple at National back in December, raising a few eyebrows among the group I was with.

“That smells like my dad’s liquor cabinet,” said one friend after taking a sniff.

She may have a point, but I really love this cocktail. So, since then, I’ve kept ordering them. Like at Charcut a couple of weeks ago.

Later, out of curiousity, I looked up the recipe and saw how easy they are to make.

So when the cocktail urge struck, I bought a bag of ice, made some simple syrup and stirred myself a drink.

Bourbon Old-Fashioned

Typically, the recipe calls for straight orange, but I happened to have a couple of blood oranges lying around, so I used slices of that. Of course, use what you have on hand. Although I usually have Maker’s Mark, I recently bought a bottle of Buffalo Trace, which I’m enjoying a lot.

• 1 sugar cube
• 3 dashes Angostura bitters
• 1 orange slice
• splash of soda water
• ice cubes
• 2 1/2 fl. oz. bourbon

In a double old-fashioned glass (or, in my case, whatever glass I have lying around that is clean), combine the sugar cube, bitters, orange slice and soda water and muddle together. Add a handful of ice cubes, then the bourbon. Stir well.

Makes 1 drink.

I mean, I love breakfast — or maybe more accurately, I love brunch. A plate of eggs and sausages and hash browns? Yes, please. Huevos Rancheros? Absolutely. Even classic eggs Benedict is a perfect way to start the day.

But during the week, I’ll grasp at any extra sleep I can get in the morning and if that means foregoing a sit-down breakfast, then that’s the sacrifice I will make.

That doesn’t mean, though, that I skip the meal entirely. There’s no way I could last until lunch and I recognize the importance of starting off the day right (while still hitting the snooze button at least once).

So, I like to have stuff around that I can grab and take with me. Fruit, small chunks of cheese, maybe even a sandwich. And, occasionally, I have fresh muffins.

Bran or blueberry are standard, but when I saw the small collection of apples on my counter (my go-to fruit for snacking) this week, I thought it might be nice to incorporate them into a muffin.

It would have to be spiced with some cinnamon and nutmeg and the chunks of apple should be big enough to notice, but small enough to get well distributed in the mix.

After digging around on the Internet, I found a recipe from Martha Stewart to use as a guide, but I made a few changes, including adding nutmeg (a warm flavour I think is perfect with apples) and reducing the butter; a little fat is fine in a muffin, but I think a half a cup is unnecessary.

I made it with Fujis and Galas because that’s what I had around the house. The original calls for a Granny Smith, which would give off a tarter flavour, but these sweeter apples were just as nice.

And I didn’t bother peeling the apple before dicing it because:

a) There are lots of great nutrients in the peel;

b) I can’t be bothered;

c) All of the above.

Plus, I like how the skins imparted a slightly pink hue to the baked muffins.

These turned out really well, warmly spiced and full of small chunks of apple. With a chunk of cheddar and a cup of tea, it’s a good way to start the day — right after hitting the snooze button.

Apple Muffins

• 2 cups (500 mL) flour
• 1 cup (250 mL) sugar
• 2 tsp (10 mL) baking soda
• ¾ tsp (3.5 mL) salt
• ½ tsp (2 mL) cinnamon
• ½ tsp (2 mL) nutmeg
• 1 apple, cored and diced into ½-inch (1-cm) cubes
• 1 cup (250 mL) buttermilk, at room temperature
• 2 eggs
• ¼ cup (60 mL) unsalted butter, melted and cooled

Preheat oven to 400F (200C). Line a muffin tin with liners or spray with vegetable oil.

In a large bowl, stir together flour, sugar, baking soda, salt and spices until thoroughly mixed. Stir in apples.

In a separate bowl, using a fork or whisk, mix buttermilk, eggs and butter.

Make a well in the dry ingredients and pour in the wet. Using a spatula or spoon, gently fold together the mixture until just combined. Do not over mix.

Divide batter between muffin cups, filling three-quarters full. Bake until the muffins are brown and a toothpick or tester comes out clean, about 16 to 18 minutes. Let cool slightly in the pan before removing to a rack.

Serve.

Makes 12 to 18 muffins.

An Old Fashioned, a Sour, a Mint Julep.

But when I pull out my bottle of bourbon at home, more often than not it’s because I’m adding it to something I’m baking.

There are the Bourbon Pecan Pie Brownies, the Vanilla Cupcakes with Bourbon Buttercream and these, the Bourbon Blondies.

Since first unveiling a plate of these boozy bars at a friend’s house a few summers ago, they have become my go-to dessert for potlucks and parties. They’ve been packed along to ski weekends and made an appearance at a party kicking off 2013. They remain one of my most requested baked goods within my circle of friends.

Though maybe not after I reveal just how easy they are to make and everyone just starts whipping up their own batches.

I don’t remember when or how I first stumbled upon a recipe for blondies. They don’t seem quite as well-known on this side of the border as they are south of it.

So, when I put out a plate of them, I’m often asked just what they are exactly. And the answer is they’re kind of like a brownie, but minus the cocoa, which makes a brownie, well, brown.

Perhaps a more accurate description is they’re kind of bar-like cookies.

The beauty of them lies in both how easy they are to make and their adaptability.

Like brownies, you melt the butter, which makes them great for impulse baking, as opposed to most cakes and cookies, which require room temperature butter.

The addition of bourbon puts a spin on things – no pun intended. The alcohol will mostly cook off – and the amount for the entire pan is a mere two ounces, or the equivalent of one of my favourite cocktails – but the flavour remains.

Bourbon Blondies

To keep these kid-friendly or if bourbon isn’t your thing, simply omit the alcohol and the additional 1 tablespoon of flour. Use whatever additions feel good; I typically use chocolate chips and pecans, but have tried other nuts and even dried fruits, such as cranberries. For the bourbon, I use whatever I have on hand or, occasionally, whiskey instead.

• 1/2 cup (125 mL) butter, melted
• 1 cup (250 mL) brown sugar
• 1 egg
• 1 tsp (5 mL) vanilla
• 1/4 cup (60 mL) bourbon or whiskey
• pinch salt
• 1 cup plus 1 tbsp (250 plus 15 mL) all-purpose flour
• 1/2 cup (125 mL) chocolate chips
• 1/2 cup (125 mL) chopped pecans

Preheat oven to 350F (180C).

Butter an 8×8-inch (20x20cm) pan and line with parchment paper that has extra to hang over the sides like a sling. (This makes for easy removal and slicing.)

In a bowl, mix together the melted butter and sugar. Beat in the egg, then vanilla. Stir in the bourbon or whiskey and mix until combined. Add the salt and then gently stir in the flour. Add the chocolate chips and pecans and stir until just combined.

Scrape into the lined pan and pat down the rather thick batter so it creates a layer that reaches the edges of the pan.

Bake for 20 to 25 minutes or until the middle has set.

Remove and cool on a rack before removing from the pan and slicing.

There’s something about gathering together good friends and good food that makes a meal so much greater than the sum of its parts.

The first time I had this Roast Salmon and Potatoes with Mustard-Herb Butter was in Edmonton while visiting friends. For the last day of the weekend, we decided to have some fun in the kitchen and, after flipping through Martha Stewart’s Dinner at Home, we settled on it.

A trip to the farmers’ market netted us the fingerling potatoes and herbs, a stop at the fishmonger, the salmon, and the final stop was at the wine store for some rose. (I drink what I like and do not profess to know anything about pairings; but I did like this match.)

The recipe comes together so quickly that there was more time to chat and set the table for the early afternoon meal.

And when the coral pink salmon and lightly browned potatoes came out of the oven and we smothered on the green-flecked butter, we knew it was going to be good.

But it was the combination of the rich salmon, crisp-edged potatoes and fresh herbs, along with the crisp rose and the inevitable laughs and conversation that made the the meal so memorable. That said, when I made it again Monday night, alone in my apartment, and ate it with a now-requisite glass of rose, it was still incredibly tasty.

The Dijon is not overwhelming and the rich fish is brightened by the slight mustard tang and fresh herbs.

And I love the idea of a one-pan dish, particularly since I’m the one doing the dishes.

Maybe that’s another great reason why this should be enjoyed with friends.

Roast Salmon and Potatoes with Mustard-Herb Butter

I’ve had this with fingerling potatoes, which are great, but this time around I used the more readily available Yukon Golds.

• 1 tbsp plus 2 tsp (25 mL) extra-virgin olive oil, plus more for the pan
• 1 lb (500 g) fingerling potatoes, halved lengthwise
• coarse salt and freshly ground pepper
• 2 lb (1 kg) fillet salmon, skin on
• Mustard-Herb butter (see below)
• fresh herbs, plus more leaves for garnish

Preheat oven to 400°F (200°C). Brush the bottom of a roasting pan with oil. Place potatoes in pan; season with 3/4 tsp (3 mL) salt and a pinch of pepper, and drizzle with 1 tbsp (15 mL) oil. Toss to coat, and spread in a single layer.

Roast 30 minutes, turning with a spatula after potatoes begin to turn golden underneath (about 20 minutes). Season salmon on both sides with salt and pepper. Push potatoes to edges of pan, and place salmon, skin side down, in centre of pan. Brush with remaining 2 tsp (10 mL) oil, and roast until salmon barely flakes on the edges when pressed, 25 to 28 minutes for medium-rare (it will still be pink in the centre). Brush salmon and potatoes with herb butter while still hot.

Serve, garnished with herbs. Serves 4.

Mustard-Herb Butter

While the original recipe calls for chervil, thyme and parsley, I used dill, tarragon and parsley.

Use what you like or what you have on hand. I didn’t use all of the butter, so don’t feel you need to put it all on. Stewart suggests it goes well with roasted, grilled or broiled fish, chicken or pork.

I’m thinking of roasting the rest of my potatoes and tossing it with them.

• 1/2 cup (125 mL) unsalted butter, room temperature
• 1 tbsp (15 mL) Dijon mustard
• 1/4 cup (50 mL) tightly packed small herb leaves, such as parsley, thyme and chervil, plus more for garnish
• coarse salt and freshly ground pepper

Stir butter and mustard together in a small bowl until smooth. Stir in the herbs and season with 1/4 tsp (1 mL) salt and 1/8 tsp (0.5 mL) pepper, or to taste.

(The compound butter can be made ahead, rolled tightly in parchment paper to form a log, and then wrapped in plastic; store in the refrigerator up to 1 week, or in the freezer up to 1 month.)

This article first appeared in the Calgary Herald. For more recipes and meal ideas, check out CalgaryHerald.com/food.

Yes, sometimes my life is pretty amazing.
I mean, this is my kind of breakfast.

I had the pleasure of judging with John Gilchrist and Calgary Farmers’ Market’s Amanda Bonner. (The Best Of segment tied in with the Sundown Chowdown event at the market that weekend. I judged some of those dishes too. Oooof.)
Here we are preparing to try the Whole Truck Burgers and Poutines from Alley Burger.

This is The Special from Red Wagon Diner. Although not a huge smoked meat fan, I really loved this sandwich.

There were even ice cream sandwiches from Fiasco Gelato.

In the end, the winner was the Naaco Truck. But I have to give shout outs to Cheezy Bizness, which does fantastic grilled cheese sandwiches. I particularly loved The Big Cheese, which has a mix of cheddar and gruyere, pimento cheese, dill pickles and shaved red onion. And one of these days I am going to try a Mac Melt, which is grilled cheese with mac and cheese. Oh, yes! (I also love that owner Nicole is a huge proponent of local and runs her truck as close to waste-free as possible.) And another shout out to Los Compadres. They dished up some truly Mexican fare and the best mole sauce I’ve ever tried.

The folks from Teatro opened a new spot on Stephen Avenue this fall. Cucina is rustic and charming in decor, but the food is impeccably done.

Chef John Michael MacNeil has created a menu of bistro-style dishes with a Teatro influence. Rosemary roasted porchetta is tender and deeply flavoured. On the sandwich, the rich meat is contrasted with an apple-celery slaw.
Behold:

The Chicken Liver Parfait is also fantastic.

A couple of weeks after having lunch there, I was back having brunch. Loved that instead of hashbrowns, you can get servings of pan-fried gnocchi hash. I was glad to get back because I really wanted to try the BBT (Bacon Basil Tomato) sandwich, which isn’t on the lunch menu.

We may have had eyes bigger than our stomachs.

But it was worth it.

CRMR has added to its stable by opening Bar C on 17th Avenue. May I recommend the Sazerac? Because I do.

The same can be said with a plate of cured meats, but I’m not about to make salami at home – not yet anyway.

Terrine, though, is essentially dressed-up meat loaf with a few extra steps (and a fancier name). And that is something I’m more than willing to take on in my kitchen – as dangerous as that might be.

It didn’t dawn on me to try this at home until I stumbled onto five terrine recipes in Donna Hay’s A Cook’s Guide – a book aimed at teaching home cooks some solid basic recipes with variations. When I reviewed the book for my column, I took on a baked risotto recipe, but I kept flipping back to this one for Chicken and Pistachio Terrine.

The combination of sweet and tart cranberries, nutty pistachios and a bit of tarragon mixed in to a chicken and pork terrine was very appealing.

It didn’t disappoint. Which is good. Because this recipe makes a lot of terrine.

As in, I’m pretty sure it could serve more than the recommended 10 to 12, depending on what else was being offered.

But that makes it a great dish for entertaining, especially as we head into the holiday season. (And yes, the green pistachios and red cranberries do make it seem even more festive.)

The fact that it’s incredibly easy to put together, not to mention that you make it the day before serving, also appeals.

It takes little more effort than putting all the ingredients into a bowl, mixing and dividing it between two loaf pans to bake in a water bath. Setting them in the fridge over night, covered with some foil, a piece of cardboard and something heavy produces a nice flat top , which makes them look more refined than rustic.

I ate a few slices on some baguette and ciabatta with some wee gherkin pickles and a couple of pickled cipollini onions.

And I was a very happy girl.

Chicken and Pistachio Terrine

The only changes to this recipe from Donna Hay are in the instructions. The original calls for a long, thin tin to bake the terrine in, but I’ve adapted it here to make two loaves baked in loaf pans lined with parchment paper for easy removal. It makes a lot of terrine, so if you’re making this for a smaller group, consider halving the recipe.

• 1 ¾ lb (800g) ground chicken
• 1 ¾ lb (800g) ground pork
• 3 slices bacon, finely chopped
• 3 cloves garlic, minced
• 2 tbsp (30 mL) chopped tarragon leaves
• 1 ½ cups (375 mL) dried cranberries
• ½ cup (125 mL) shelled unsalted pistachios
• 1 tbsp (15 mL) sea salt flakes
• 2 tsp (10 mL) cracked black pepper
• ½ cup (125 mL) port
• 3 eggs

Preheat oven to 350F (180C). Place the chicken and pork, bacon, garlic, tarragon, cranberries, pistachios, salt, pepper, port and eggs in a large bowl and mix well to combine.

Lightly grease two loaf pans and line with parchment paper. Divide the mix evenly between the two, pressing the mixture down lightly.

Cover with aluminum foil, place in a deep baking dish and pour in enough hot water to come halfway up the sides of the pan. (I used two baking dishes, putting one loaf pan in each dish.)

Cook for 1 ½ hours or until firm. Remove tins from the hot water.

Cut two pieces of cardboard to fit over the terrine.

Fit over the aluminum foil and weigh down with a heavy object. (Canned vegetables are good here.)

Refrigerate overnight. Remove the terrine from the pan and slice to serve.

Serves 12 to 24. Note: There was some excess fat that resulted from baking the terrines. I gently poured it off before refrigerating them.

This article first appeared in the Calgary Herald. For more recipes and ideas, check out CalgaryHerald.com/Food.

Oof.

And lots of eating while traveling, but I’m going to do separate posts for those. Soon. I promise.

Until then, here are some shots from the last couple of months.

Bon Appetit.

First up, I have to say that I highly recommend the burgers at National. No surprise considering they were created by Justin Leboe, who is the chef behind the ones at Clive Burger and the one at Model Milk. This chef knows his burgers.

Order this one with fries and then take this tip from my little sister, turn your plate so the delicious burger juices drip on to the fries. Oh yes, that’s good stuff.

Oh, and order a beer.

Don’t tell me this doesn’t look fantastic.

Drippings on fries. Mmmmmmm.

His fried chicken over at Model Milk is pretty damn good. Not the best photo, but it was a great night on the patio with the girls. The cup off to the right contains creamy grits and a fried egg.

And, speaking of Clive Burger. . . .
Love the decor.

And the burgers.

A burger from Clive was the first thing I ate after returning to Calgary from almost a month away in Italy, France and Morocco. It satisfied my burger craving in a big way.

In the summer I did a story about Village Ice Cream and am now absolutely addicted to their salted caramel. (Though cardamom is a close second.)
This is exactly how it should be eaten.

I finally made it to Las Tortillas (warning link goes to site with autoplay music) up in Marlborough. This little store/taqueria is located in a strip mall and is one of those great secrets that Karen Anderson of Calgary Food Tours shared with me. I went back later with another friend and we had some tacos, which were very tasty.

On a night out at Catch with an old friend from high school, chef Kyle Groves gave us a little sampling of white salmon. I had no idea such a thing existed. But I’m glad I do know. This was incredibly tasty, especially with the lightly cooked peas and mushrooms.

Over at Sidewalk Citizen Bakery, they’ve started offering pickles. They are spice and mouth puckeringly delicious. If you spy them when you stop by, I definitely recommend picking some up.

I did cook at home this summer, I swear.

My favourite cold remedy is homemade hot and sour soup. I like mine jammed with carrots, wood ear, shiitakes and green onions.

I have my friend Suzi to thank for teaching me a bastardized version of the Zuni Roast Chicken Bread Salad, which is now one of my favourite indulgences. Don’t think of it like a salad; it’s more like stuffing with a bit of vinegary dressing.
Salting the chicken pieces and leaving it to air dry for a day or two gives it a super crisp skin, but the meat stays incredibly tender. The roast chicken goes on top of toasted chunks of raggedly ripped bread, with some cranberries and pine nuts and a few greens.

One day I hope to post Suzi’s version. Future weekend project.
Until then, Smitten Kitchen has her own version.