My brother, a fellow foodie, came up to visit me in Whitehorse last week. I was just excited to see him as I was to have an enthusiastic dinner date with whom to explore Whitehorse's culinary offerings. We set out on Friday night with the intention of trying out the Sanchez Cantina, a new Mexican restaurant that many locals have raved about.
(I spent some of the happiest, and chubbiest, years of my life in Mexico and am constantly on the hunt for authentic tacos)
We started our night at The Roundhouse, where the patio was packed with locals and tourists soaking in a rare afternoon of blazing sun. Perhaps we should have kept a closer eye on the time, in any event, we didn't get on our way until about 9:30. Imagine our dismay when we arrived at the Cantina and discovered that they stop serving at 9 p.m. (on a Friday?!). No matter, I said bravely, we can go to the legendary salmon and rib place on Second Ave. There is always a line down the block and the one time I ate there, the bison burger was fantastic. But my positive attitude was for naught--they were closed as well.
But I was not to be discouraged. We headed to the newly opened Coasters Bistro where I had eaten lunch a few days before. Their two-piece cod and chips is a steal at $9.50. Perfectly breaded and fried and served with homemade chips and a tossed salad.
The servers welcomed us warmly, even though they were probably thinking about closing up for the night. We started with appies of a quesadilla and crab cakes, both hit the spot, although the bechamel-ish sauce on the crab cakes was a bit heavy. A lighter, spicier sauce may have served them better.
I ordered the lamb chops with mashed potatoes and veggies. My brother had the halibut with blue cheese sauce and the same sides as I. Our friendly waitress warned that the lamb was a smaller serving than some expected...she should have warned us about the mash.
Now, I have been a server for some 10 years and so I am pretty sensitive about sending food back unless it is undercooked meat. If the meal isn't right, I'll usually just wash it down with wine and leave it at that. Oh, but the horror!
Potatoes are not exactly an expensive item, even up here in the Yukon (unless you are shopping at the Super A, where they really push the limits of grocery decency when they price their bags of young taters at eight bucks a pop), so I have to wonder about a restaurant's priorities when they use instant mashed potatoes. The ones that arrived with our meal were more gelatinous goo than food product. I can't complain about the flavour, because there was none. The consistency however, was gag-inducing. It was rather like eating papier-mache paste, something I have avoided since kindergarten.
I briefly considered letting in go, but decided that I had a duty to future diners. My brother, who is even more loath than I to complain about a meal, agreed that something had to be said.
In a bit of beer-induced drama, I held up a forkful of the offending material to the woman serving us. "I would challenge the chef to eat this," I said.
She took my complaint in stride and headed back to the kitchen to negotiate. I was rather hoping she would offer another side, instead she elected to take an appetizer off our bill. A fair compromise, seeing as the kitchen was in the midst of closing down for the night.
I will surely eat at Coasters again; they have a beautiful little garden patio in the back and a big menu with lots of options. I would suggest that they cut the list down a bit and focus more on quality, but they are just starting and I'm sure they will come to a similar conclusion in time.
Until next time: Happy eating!!
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Monday, June 30, 2008
The barbarism continues
Browsing through the books for sale at the library the other day I came across a weighty treasure. The Encyclopedia of Organic Gardening...mine for a dollar. I opened it today for some more information about my favourite leafy green, rhubarb, and learned a lot. It seemed only right for me to share.
If you look at the pic posted along with this entry you'll see that my rhubarb is in full flower. I figured this was an integral part of the plants' life, but it turns out the flowers take energy away from the stalks.
According to my new bible, I should have cut the flowering stalks before they bloomed. As soon as they appeared, in fact. Because, as the encyclopedia says,"...though they are striking and ornamental, they exhaust the plant and tend to lessen the quality of the edible stalks."
A couple of other helpful hints that will help you get more out of this already fecund and hearty plant: don't harvest your rhubarb until its second season of growth. This will force the roots to put out more leaf and less stalk. And remember, the leaves are poisonous, the stalks however, are delicious. Also, when you are harvesting, pull the stalks out from their base, don't cut them. Leaving a piece of stalk still in the plant can contribute to rot.
I also learned that my rhubarb is not green and astringent because of the chilly weather in the Yukon. Rhubarb actually does better in colder climates, and the right varieties will come out with a brighter pink with colder weather. It turns out I have Victoria Rhubarb in my garden; a variety which always puts out tart, green stalks.
That's all for now. Tonight I am going to whip up a batch of Victoria Rhubarb compote, with some Okanagan cherries for colour. Check out the previous entry for the recipe.
If you look at the pic posted along with this entry you'll see that my rhubarb is in full flower. I figured this was an integral part of the plants' life, but it turns out the flowers take energy away from the stalks.
According to my new bible, I should have cut the flowering stalks before they bloomed. As soon as they appeared, in fact. Because, as the encyclopedia says,"...though they are striking and ornamental, they exhaust the plant and tend to lessen the quality of the edible stalks."
A couple of other helpful hints that will help you get more out of this already fecund and hearty plant: don't harvest your rhubarb until its second season of growth. This will force the roots to put out more leaf and less stalk. And remember, the leaves are poisonous, the stalks however, are delicious. Also, when you are harvesting, pull the stalks out from their base, don't cut them. Leaving a piece of stalk still in the plant can contribute to rot.
I also learned that my rhubarb is not green and astringent because of the chilly weather in the Yukon. Rhubarb actually does better in colder climates, and the right varieties will come out with a brighter pink with colder weather. It turns out I have Victoria Rhubarb in my garden; a variety which always puts out tart, green stalks.
That's all for now. Tonight I am going to whip up a batch of Victoria Rhubarb compote, with some Okanagan cherries for colour. Check out the previous entry for the recipe.
Friday, June 27, 2008
Root of the Barbarians
Note to my readers: If you are looking for the rhubarb recipe or canning directions, scroll to the bottom of this entry.
For North of 60 gardeners, spring and early summer in the Yukon is a time of planting, weeding and fretting over one's tender wards.
I moved to Whitehorse in April, just in time to catch the last (please let it be the last) blizzard of the season. In the first weeks I was here I watched the Yukon River slowly extricate itself from the heavy blanket of ice that the winter had laid down, and marvelled at the tenacity of the snowy shelves which held on well into May.
As soon as the sun started shining in earnest, I started thinking about a garden. Coming from Vancouver, I was used to a fairly laid-back form of food and flower cultivation. You pretty much drop some seeds into the ground, water and wait. Within a few months, sometimes even a few weeks, voila! Furry carrots tops, snappy peas or hearty kale leaves would come springing up. Not so in the Yukon.
Here a gardener is wise to have a greenhouse, and a c'est la vie attitude, if she wants to come into the fall with a decent harvest and unbruised morale.
I, naive cheechako that I am (cheechako is yukon slang for someone who hasn't been through a winter north of 60), figured that I could put a full day's work into planting and be rewarded with fresh veggies throughout the summer. Not so. I will have to wait until the end of July at the earliest to taste the vegetables of my labour. Which is not to say that I haven't had a bit of luck. I call her Rhubarb.
Rhubarb grows wild in the yards, alleyways and parks of Whitehorse. Several local gardeners have told me of their ongoing battles for space with ruebarbarum or "Barbarians' Root", but for me, it has been a great boon.
North of 60, the rhubard stalks do not turn the wonderful fusia that they do down south. They stay mostly green except for at the very base, and they are stringier and more bitter than their southern mates. But they grow with a vengence and that alone makes them my nominee for Vegetable of the Year (many think rhubarb is a fruit, probably because it is commonly featured in pies and jams).
My first harvest yielded 18 cups, or about 4.5 lbs of Rhubarb stalk. The leaves are inedible, poisonous in fact. My mother experimented with laying them down around her bean patches to keep the slugs away. I don't remember if it worked. I simply put mine on the compost pile.
The easiest and most delicious thing to make with rhubard is compote. This is basically a runny sort of jam which makes a great topping for icecream, cheescake or any other creamy dessert. It is tangy and sweet, and best of all, dead easy to make. If you are making this in the Yukon, I recommend adding a handful of high or lowbush crannberries to add some colour --- otherwise you may end up with a green dessert. Stawberries are another yummy addition. If the fruit you are adding is sweet enough, you shouldn't have to add any more sugar.
You will need: (starred ingredients are necessary, others are optional)
4 lbs or 16 cups rhubard stalk, washed and chopped into 1/4 inch pieces*
2 heaping cups of granulated sugar*
Juice of 1 large orange
Juice of 1 lemon (this cuts down on the amount of sugar you will need)
4 cups water*(use less if you want a thicker, more jammy consistency)
1 tsp cardamom (this adds a nice complexity of flavour)
2 tsp vanilla (several people have advised I use a vanilla bean instead, but I haven't tried that yet. Let me know if you do)
1 tsp coarse salt
>>>You can reduce this recipe by half or quarter, no problem.
Method:
Toss everything into a pot over medium heat and stir until the rhubarb is soft and begins to break up.
That's it!
If you've made a full batch, you will probably want to can or freeze some for the winter. Canning is ridiculously easy, as I learned when I called my mother to say: I just cooked 5 pounds of rhubarb, now what the heck do I do with it?
Canning supplies:
Jars with snap lids (the amount you need will depend on the size of the jars. I filled a 15 10 oz jars with this recipe)
Big pot of boiling water.
Tongs
Clean cloth
Method:
Put as many jars and lids as you can in the boiling water so that they are all submerged.
Let boil for a few minutes so everything sterilizes. Every time you remove a jar and lid, replace it. Keep track so you know which ones have been in for a while and which ones need more time.
Take out a jar with you tongs. Fill with HOT rhubarb mix (it must be hot), wipe the rim so it is completely clean of any rhubarb smudges. screw the top on all the way, then back a quarter turn. Repeat. Repeat .Repeat until all your compote is gone. Let the jars stand. after about 45 minutes you will hear them *POP* This is the sound of the snap-lid sucking in and sealing the jar. After the lid has popped, you can tighten the screw-top. Your compote should be stored in a cool dark pantry, where is will stay good for several years...if you can stop from eating is all.
For North of 60 gardeners, spring and early summer in the Yukon is a time of planting, weeding and fretting over one's tender wards.
I moved to Whitehorse in April, just in time to catch the last (please let it be the last) blizzard of the season. In the first weeks I was here I watched the Yukon River slowly extricate itself from the heavy blanket of ice that the winter had laid down, and marvelled at the tenacity of the snowy shelves which held on well into May.
As soon as the sun started shining in earnest, I started thinking about a garden. Coming from Vancouver, I was used to a fairly laid-back form of food and flower cultivation. You pretty much drop some seeds into the ground, water and wait. Within a few months, sometimes even a few weeks, voila! Furry carrots tops, snappy peas or hearty kale leaves would come springing up. Not so in the Yukon.
Here a gardener is wise to have a greenhouse, and a c'est la vie attitude, if she wants to come into the fall with a decent harvest and unbruised morale.
I, naive cheechako that I am (cheechako is yukon slang for someone who hasn't been through a winter north of 60), figured that I could put a full day's work into planting and be rewarded with fresh veggies throughout the summer. Not so. I will have to wait until the end of July at the earliest to taste the vegetables of my labour. Which is not to say that I haven't had a bit of luck. I call her Rhubarb.
Rhubarb grows wild in the yards, alleyways and parks of Whitehorse. Several local gardeners have told me of their ongoing battles for space with ruebarbarum or "Barbarians' Root", but for me, it has been a great boon.
North of 60, the rhubard stalks do not turn the wonderful fusia that they do down south. They stay mostly green except for at the very base, and they are stringier and more bitter than their southern mates. But they grow with a vengence and that alone makes them my nominee for Vegetable of the Year (many think rhubarb is a fruit, probably because it is commonly featured in pies and jams).
My first harvest yielded 18 cups, or about 4.5 lbs of Rhubarb stalk. The leaves are inedible, poisonous in fact. My mother experimented with laying them down around her bean patches to keep the slugs away. I don't remember if it worked. I simply put mine on the compost pile.
The easiest and most delicious thing to make with rhubard is compote. This is basically a runny sort of jam which makes a great topping for icecream, cheescake or any other creamy dessert. It is tangy and sweet, and best of all, dead easy to make. If you are making this in the Yukon, I recommend adding a handful of high or lowbush crannberries to add some colour --- otherwise you may end up with a green dessert. Stawberries are another yummy addition. If the fruit you are adding is sweet enough, you shouldn't have to add any more sugar.
You will need: (starred ingredients are necessary, others are optional)
4 lbs or 16 cups rhubard stalk, washed and chopped into 1/4 inch pieces*
2 heaping cups of granulated sugar*
Juice of 1 large orange
Juice of 1 lemon (this cuts down on the amount of sugar you will need)
4 cups water*(use less if you want a thicker, more jammy consistency)
1 tsp cardamom (this adds a nice complexity of flavour)
2 tsp vanilla (several people have advised I use a vanilla bean instead, but I haven't tried that yet. Let me know if you do)
1 tsp coarse salt
>>>You can reduce this recipe by half or quarter, no problem.
Method:
Toss everything into a pot over medium heat and stir until the rhubarb is soft and begins to break up.
That's it!
If you've made a full batch, you will probably want to can or freeze some for the winter. Canning is ridiculously easy, as I learned when I called my mother to say: I just cooked 5 pounds of rhubarb, now what the heck do I do with it?
Canning supplies:
Jars with snap lids (the amount you need will depend on the size of the jars. I filled a 15 10 oz jars with this recipe)
Big pot of boiling water.
Tongs
Clean cloth
Method:
Put as many jars and lids as you can in the boiling water so that they are all submerged.
Let boil for a few minutes so everything sterilizes. Every time you remove a jar and lid, replace it. Keep track so you know which ones have been in for a while and which ones need more time.
Take out a jar with you tongs. Fill with HOT rhubarb mix (it must be hot), wipe the rim so it is completely clean of any rhubarb smudges. screw the top on all the way, then back a quarter turn. Repeat. Repeat .Repeat until all your compote is gone. Let the jars stand. after about 45 minutes you will hear them *POP* This is the sound of the snap-lid sucking in and sealing the jar. After the lid has popped, you can tighten the screw-top. Your compote should be stored in a cool dark pantry, where is will stay good for several years...if you can stop from eating is all.
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