The look on Ava’s face says it all – a child is never too young to help… to play in the kitchen… to experience the magic of food. Dear readers, thank you for reading. You came, you voted, and now… without further ado, I present your French menu, sampler style. Thank you for making my belly happy and taking me on a journey back to Paris. Yesterday I laughed and cried. Looking forward to the rest of the week. Teardrop Onion Soup (French Onion Soup) [Recipe] This classic Parisian soup is made with little more than wine, water, and onions. We took our cue from Paris’ own Cordon Bleu and left out the beef stock. Instead, a little flour and butter gets mixed in for richness and texture. Fresh thyme adds depth, while a crusty crouton covered with a thin coating of gruyère makes everyone happy. Ratatouille [Recipe] Provençal vegetable stew made with eggplant, zucchini, sweet bell peppers, onions, tomatoes, and a healthy dose of olive oil. Enjoy it hot or cold. Artisan French Bread …
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I moved to Paris when I was 13, just weeks after my brother died. He was a year and a half older than me. His death was sudden and I was a mess. Paris was not so much a new chapter, as an entirely new book in my life. I wasn’t yet ready for hope, but the distraction of a foreign country proved perfect. When I stepped off the plane I was tired. The air was thick and heavy and the cold stone of the surrounding buildings was grey, grey, grey. My French-speaking aunt greeted me with what else, but a cow’s tongue fresh from the meat market. She sliced it thinly and offered me a piece. “You must be hungry,” she said with a smile. I was taught to be polite and, so, politely, I declined. I blamed jet lag and fatigue but embarrassment took over. I went to bed and slept for 15 hours. Not even two weeks later, at a glamorous wedding, I faced my second food Adventure – the rarest piece of …
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THE SCENE Rather abruptly, Ava threw up. She was in her room, but we could hear her all the way in the kitchen. Keith called out in a panic: “Sash, could you … come here?” I excused myself from our guests, bracing for what I knew would be a gruesome sight. Little did I know… Blueberries. Were. Everywhere. Ava, strangely enough, didn’t seem bothered in the slightest. She played with her baby doll while Keith and I scrubbed. Five minutes later I went back to the kitchen and assured Ruby and her husband, Nivantha, that things were totally fine. Of course the weren’t, but I what else was I supposed to say? That’s what hostesses who grab random strangers off the street do! Understandably, Ruby and her husband weren’t quite buying it and, out of politeness (and I’m sure a little self-preservation), they left. Finland was most definitely not to blame. Ava had systematically refused the mustard dill sauce and her cup of blueberry milk. She wouldn’t even look at the rutabaga. The only thing she had …
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Serves 2-4 You could glaze a hub cap and I’d eat it. The key is to make the glazed item tantalizingly sweet – leave a little mystery. I’m not into savory foods swimming in syrup. This Finnish recipe shows lovely restraint, striking a delicate balance. In fact, shortly after I took my first bite I decided to make this recipe as often as possible for the rest of my life. Rutabagas come from around northern Central Europe. Maple syrup and butter give the root the most addictive flavor and it makes a great side dish for salmon or roast chicken. A total eye opener. The technique would be lovely with any carb – carrots, potatoes, butternut squash – or even a hearty blend of them all. Ingredients: 2 lbs rutabaga (about 3 average rutabagas), peeled and cubed 4 Tbsp butter (1/2 stick) 1/8 cup maple syrup salt pepper Method: Dearest readers, meet the mighty rutabaga. Often passed up in the supermarket. Rarely grown at home. A gnarly thing of beauty. You’ll need to peel it and …
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Makes about 1 1/2 cups Mustard-lovers unite. This tangy, spicy Scandinavian recipe goes great with meaty salmon. Take the time to buy really excellent mustard – the spicier the better. If you have leftovers try spreading a little on a sandwich. That’s what I did! Ingredients: 3/4 cup (7 oz) spicy dijon mustard 1 1/2 ounces fresh dill, stems removed and chopped (about 1 cup) 1/8 cup vinegar 1 tsp salt 1 1/2 tsp sugar 3/4 cup oil Method: First things first. Start a small herb garden and grow a mound of dill. You’ll be glad you did because this recipe calls for a lot. About 2 of those insanely expensive plastic containers the supermarkets carry. Once you have your dill, take the stems off. The chop it up nice and fine. Measure out the spiciest-mustard-you-can-find into a small bowl. I used a true Dijon, but take a gander in local specialty shops. I’m sure you’ll find something just as lovely. Add the vinegar. Mr Picky and I are so different. At this point he pinched …
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Makes about 1 1/2 quarts The Finns are a healthy bunch. Between foraging for berries and milking cows, it is no wonder that they also enjoy slurping blueberry milk – an antioxidant rich powerhouse of a drink. Not to mention – it’s blue – an underutilized color in cooking. Pretty cool in my book. This recipe is adapted from The Best of Finnish Cooking. They used half as much milk than I did – which would make a thicker and much bluer mixture. Play around and see what works for you. Ingredients: 1 pint blueberries 1 quart milk 1-3 Tbsp sugar 1-2 cups ice Method: If you have the time, I highly recommend milking a cow for this recipe. There weren’t any available this weekend, so I had to use the old standby – supermarket cow. Whole milk is best. Borrow a small child to help make this recipe. Miss Ava ate more blueberries than she added to the blender, so – if you do – be sure to buy extra. Splash on the milk. …
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Finns greet Easter with a goopy, black as tar dish called mämmi. If that’s not enough to entice you, let me see if I can adequately describe the flavor. It’s been described as a cross between Guinness and shoe paste. Even with such a distinct look and taste, mämmi is a tradition held seriously enough to warrant protection from the European Union. Making mämmi is no joke – first you mix rye flour with bitter orange peel, a hint of sweetener, and a few other ingredients. Boiling water gets mixed in and you slowly bake it in a warm oven. Slowly… as in for three hours. Then it has to be whipped until cool. Then it has to sit for a few days. I think there’s some repetition of steps in there somewhere. Finally, and most commonly, it gets served with a splash of cream and a bit of sugar. Phew. If grandma goes to the trouble to make you a batch of mämmi, you had better eat it with a smile – goup and …
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Makes 1 giant loaf (or as many smaller shapes as you’d like) Pulla is the ultimate Finnish bread dough. Feeling sad? Shape it into a teardrop. Feeling confused? Twist the heck out of it. Feeling like Pippi Longstocking? Braid it! Feeling creative? Shape it into men, women and children. Feeling pregnant? Just make little buns, baby! There’s also plenty of choice in regard to flavorings. Pulla always tastes of glorious cardamom. After that? You can leave it plain or fill it. Sweeten life up with a bit of brown sugar, butter, and spices (that’s what we opted for in this recipe), or get things movin’ with some prune filling. You can even fill it after baking with a bit of jam and whipped cream. Usually this is assembled “hamburger style” with a bun sliced in half and whipped cream gilding the outer edges of a jam-burger. What to expect: No matter how you handle it, pulla should not be anywhere as sweet as a cinnamon roll. The soft, rich dough is quite a bit more …
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I always wince a little when I tell a native about the food I chose to represent their country. I wait for the hammer to drop – for them to tell me “no one eats that food!” Or “good job stereotyping my country!” When I met Ruby, my new half-Finnish friend, I had already been to the grocery store and purchased what I needed for this menu. The thought of changing plans exhausted me. When she asked me what I was making, I almost didn’t tell her. I almost ran away. For some reason I didn’t. I got lots of excited nods, especially when I got to the Pulla. Oh, what a relief. But my luck changed when I got to the blueberry milk. She shook her head slowly. I panicked. My mind raced – what could I make instead? Thankfully her mother stepped in to clear things up. Blueberry milk really is authentic. It’s just not something that she had growing up in her house. Phew, crisis averted. Funny how localized food can be, …
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This past Saturday, while at a baby dance class – in between pretending to be a turtle and an elephant, I met a woman. Her name is Ruby and she’s half Finnish. To be fair, I had no idea she was Finnish and it isn’t why I started talking to her. Of course, once I found out her origins, I immediately took her home to cook with me. Mr Picky was okay with it – as long as he got to eat. While we cooked, Ruby told me lots of neat things about Finland (did you know they are one of the healthiest countries in the world?), but she didn’t tell me that it is home to the world’s largest ice castle. Or about Rudolph. You know, that cute glow-nosed creature from your childhood? Well, head to Finland and you just might meet him – on your plate. This arctic country has made an art out of reindeer stew, served piping hot with a bit of lingonberry jam on the side. Perhaps Ruby didn’t share …
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THE SCENE: I knew it was time but I secretly hoped to fail. “Can I help you?” the fishmonger asked. He was bright eyed and eager. His apron was starched. “I am making ceviche and need a very fresh piece of Mahi-Mahi.” Please, oh please, I thought, scanning the fish case. Please let him say they don’t have any. “We don’t carry sushi-grade fish,” he said, shaking his head. He looked genuinely disappointed. “Oh, ok. Well, thanks anyway” I turned on my heel, giving Ava a little wink. But, before I could step away, another voice called out – “You don’t need sushi-grade fish to make ceviche.” I cautiously looked back over my shoulder. His name tag said Josh. He was a little scruffier than the first guy, maybe a few years older, and he was definitely not wet behind the ears. I turned to face him. He repeated himself “You don’t need sushi-grade fish to make ceviche. You just need really fresh fish.” He picked up a slab of mahi mahi and brought it right up to his nose. …
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Serves 4 People all over Polynesia eat this rich, sweet dessert. It’s uber simple to throw together – just take care to not overcook the bananas, lest they become mushy. Mushy is a big time banana fail. I never met anyone who loved mushy bananas. Do you? TIP: This amount of coconut milk can easily cook more bananas – perhaps up to 8 small red bananas. I only needed 4 for our small family though. Ingredients: 4 small red bananas or 2 regular bananas 1/4 tsp salt (or just a pinch) 1/3 cup sugar 1 (13.5 oz) can of coconut milk Method: Are you a coconut fanatic? Good. Get ready! In a saucepan big enough for your bananas, add coconut milk, sugar,… … and a little salt. Bring this lovely mixture to a simmer and stir to dissolve sugar. Add the bananas (you can use whole bananas or slice them in bite-sized pieces). Simmer gently for 2-4 minutes (do not overcook or the bananas will become mushy). You really just want to warm them through. …
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