LAMENTING LACK OF LITERAL MUSES

I can't believe it is almost a year since I last blogged! Not an anniversary I had planned. Life certainly has a funny way of filling every waking hour. When you least expect it, you can find yourself with every hour filled, every list overflowing and every bit of energy accounted for. On one hand I am thrilled with my lack of spare time...it means we've been busy. I've been fortunate in having a fair amount of great press in the past (almost) year. That, of course, has brought forth a dramatic increase in customers, from all over the world, which leads to more time being devoted to prep and the like. Most days my to-do list seems bottomless! But it is with an enthusiastic and grateful vigour that I approach my list every day. I've also been spending countless hours tweaking the menu, making seasonal changes, re-working plates & platings. These are things I love to do; experimenting, playing with ideas, fine-tuning, honing in on what will make such-and -such perfect, challenging myself. When it's busy, the time necessary for all of this rises exponentially.
On the other hand I really regret not having the time to do what I am happily doing now. I used to so enjoy it, sitting at this keyboard, sharing current thoughts on my favourite subject--food, glorious food. Most of the blame can be attributed to my switching keyboards and outlets... I began writing a book. Suddenly, whenever I could find spare minutes, even as they were depleting, I could be found with my laptop, typing furiously. Still blogging I suppose, just a different venue.
Well, the book is now complete! Not published yet, but ready for an editor's eye. I'm thrilled that it's done and am equally thrilled with the end product. However, instead of taking now free minutes to concentrate on other things ( ie: blogging) I have started writing a second book.
So, as I look at this situation realistically, the only solution for my quandary is to slash my sleeping hours from 7 to 6 per pm. Time for everything, everything in time.

Canned Heat

Now that the chill in the air is pronounced , and the bountiful end of season harvests all but gone, the most welcome respite from the outdoors can be found in the innumerable jars of last seasons bounty. The multitudinous varieties of preserves and sauces, confitures and pickles excite the palate all through the fall and winter, adding bursts of joyful intensity that would otherwise be merely a long-lost memory of harvests past. Canned heat in the literal sense, the sundrenched flavours are akin to a gastronomes' time-capsule, a locked-in reminder of the past, and when each jar is opened, the exceedingly pleasing pop could be described as the heat of the summer eager to enrich the dark days of winter. Roots in all their guises are endlessly pleasing, but to have a jar of beautiful tomato sauce or pickled cauliflower on hand is hardly a bad thing!

Exquisite Transformation- Summer to Fall

Once again, fall has arrived, and the transition of the menus will soon begin in earnest as we debate regarding what changes we deem fit. So many possibilities-the slight chill in the air, which of course will only continue, demands that some of the lighter touches associated with summer need to be banished relatively quickly, as the richer, heavier tastes of fall/winter gradually become status quo, a necessity to combat the lower temperatures. The ease with which the chill anchors itself deep within one's soul is something that is novel the first week or two of autumn, but soon enough, when the leaves begin to turn and the flowers wilt, the last breath of life merely a memory, said chill needs to be exorcised with warming, "heavier" (so to speak), foods, foods that can keep winter at bay, at least within our minds. These foods will hopefully keep some memories and feelings of the summer season relevant and current, but of course, as time progresses , the memories of summer will vanish soon enough as winter's brawn overwhelms these most ethereal of images.
Nontheless, fall and winter provide such a delectable bounty that there is too much excitement in the air for reminiscing over flavors past. With the exquisite tastes of fall fruits and winter roots intense and pleasurable, they are worthy successors to the blatant intensity of things such as tomatoes and corn, strawberries and raspberries. Perchance there is not quite as much variety in these cold, dark, brooding seasons, however, this just means the mind has to delve deep within the vat of ideas to keep the plates of food titillating. The dirth of natural colour and warmth may be slightly depressing in the middle of these upcoming seasons, but at least we have our beautiful food to keep us warm.

Celebration of Locality

This past Saturday, September 6, we took part in an exciting event, one whose purpose was to celebrate the beautiful, bountiful array of produce and meats from local farms. Called "Fare in the Square", the event had 12 local restaurants (ours included) prepare a small, amuse-bouche - sized dish using only ingredients sourced locally. T'was a resounding success. Vast hordes of people came to experience this refreshing celebration, hopefully showing them what a truly amazing place a farmers' market can be. We served Braised Brisket, Sweet Pea Puree, Tomato Confit, Chevre, Basil, and Spelt Cracker. The dish itself was outstanding-we were tempted to put it on our restaurant menu!

Exciting New Review

A couple of days ago a customer of ours showed us a recent review of the restaurant, written in the Watertown Daily Times. Thank you! What a pleasant surprise. After reading it, a feeling of intense giddyness overwhelmed us. It isn't often that one is able to experience that indescribable sensation, the feeling that all of what we do is worth it. In fact, it inspires us to strive ever further, to lavish more respect upon the beautiful produce with which we work.
Here is the link to the review.

Ice Cream

At the height of summer, what could possibly be more suitable than ice cream? The simplest of preparations, at it's base unchanged since it was first invented over a century ago. Humans must be naturally predisposed to creamy, cool, and sweet, because ice cream is something that most everyone enjoys, and very nearly every culture has it's own version, some with only minor variations, others completely different. They serve the same purpose though, and they can all be infused with a multitudinous array of flavors, allowing the ice cream itself to always be novel and "new" to the palate.
Any season can send forth notions of what can flavor ice cream; any season can manifest itself in an intense expression of what is quintessentially that seasons' most iconic flavor. Fruits, nuts, spices, herbs, certain vegetables (especially if the ice cream is a savoury), and other untraditional flavors-black olives, smoked cinnamon, etc... Really, nearly anything can be made into an ice cream, which at times can overwhelm the mind. I sometimes hear in conversation that ice cream is only a hot weather food though, that when there is a slight nip in the air, and the leaves have begun their technicolor end-of-season theatrical production, it isn't really all that desirable. However, if the ice cream is flavored in an intense, almost "heavy" fashion, with fuller, deeper, intrinsically cold-weather flavors, the richness and intensity of the flavor couldn't be more appropriate. Gingerbread or eggnog? Pumpkin with a hint of juniper? If one was to close one's eyes, and then proceed to be fed a number of different flavored ice creams whose flavors were unbeknownst to the taster, it would be simple enough to gauge what season is being expressed and celebrated. Rhubarb?Early spring. Peaches, plums, berries? Height of summer. Lightly mulled apples? Early fall. The aforementioned gingerbread? Winter.
I sometimes think that I like the idea of ice cream too much (I have entertained the notion of an ice cream tasting menu...too obsessive?), but it is suited to any part of the meal, as any food can pair beautifully with it. A smaller part of the plate with an appetizer, sweetening the ice cream mildly so as to keep it within the realm of savoury. An element of an entree, to cut through the dish or to highlight it, the ice cream providing an element of excitement. Of course it functions as a palate cleanser, as well as sometimes being delightfully appropriate as a component on a cheese plate. Lastly, obviously, as dessert, either as the star of the plate or merely supporting it from the backround.
Reflecting on the last few sentences, maybe I should try to develop an ice cream tasting menu... if only for myself!


Mint Ice Cream

Such a simple classic...

2 1/3 cup whole milk
2 1/3 cup 35 % cream
8 egg yolks
1 cup sugar
2 packed cups mint leaves(blanced, chilled, pureed with a bit of water till smooth.)

Fill a large bowl with ice water and place another smaller bowl that fits nicely over top. This is your ice bath.
In pot combine milk and cream over medium heat. Bring to simmer, lower heat. In mixing bowl combine yolks and sugar and whisk till lightened in colour. To temper the egg yolks, pour about 1cup of the hot milk mixture into the yolks and whisk vigorously right away, ensuring there are no lumps. Pour back into the milk pot and, whisking lightly but constantly, cook over low heat until the custard begins thickening. You can tell when it's ready if when you stop stirring you can see the surface of the custard trembling ever so lightly. Remove from the heat. Pour into ice bath, stirring every so often during the cooling process. Add the mint puree, mix thoroughly, and refrigerate overnight.
The next day, strain out the mint flecks and churn in an ice cream maker according to manufacturer's instructions. Transfer to a container, cover, and place in the freezer for at least 4 hours, preferably longer, to further solidify it. If, when serving it, it is too hard to scoop, leave it out of the freezer for 10-15 minutes.

A Diatribe Against Lie-Laced Locality

90% local. At Luke's Gastronomy, we strive to be as local as feasible, celebrating the bounty that is available from the multitudinous farms in our area. Of course, more often than not, it is harder to use local ingredients because, quite simply, you have to find them. Search for them. Making phone calls and running down to the market go hand-in-hand with changing our menus. Though at times frustrating (there has to be grass-fed beef somewhere!), in the end, I believe it is more rewarding, and more gratifying, to take the time to find the proper ingredients. One feels better knowing from where the ingredients have come, and, in a way, the food does taste better. More real, pure, and flavourful. Local food is food that puts your mind at ease because of the respect that is paid to the farmers; and gives your entire body an irrepressible sense of pleasure because of the flavor.



The previous paragraph, I hope, succinctly illustrates our commitment to locality, and the challenges that we at times face in our quest to find local ingredients. It is a challenge, but one that we have come to enjoy. Needless to say, the fact that 90% of the raw material we use is local is something that impresses our clients. We find that to be able to put our commitment to locality in such clean, clear terms truly shows them that we are not merely "local" just because the local movement is deemed "trendy". On that subject, there is something that irks me. Being sustainable because it is considered the "cool" thing to do is a phenomenon that far too many restaurants are doing. Jumping on the bandwagon, droning on and on about their "dedication to changing their menus with the seasons, using only the freshest, most seasonal ingredients", and telling that to their customers with confidence, is rather misleading. How many restaurants are there where local is a catchphrase for getting customers in the door, and nothing more. These establishments are doing it for the money, not because they respect being sustainable. Sure, there may be a token beet thrown in because it looks good, but, quite simply, they are lying. They are using the term because in their eyes it is "hip" and the "in" thing to do, but in the process, they are debasing what the vast number of other truly local-dedicated restaurants do. We struggle to find the local farmers, spending hours (on a good day) searching for suppliers. Locality is innately important to us, whilst all the other "local" restaurants just have to use the term, trivializing, to an extent, the real localism. In a way, it is both maddening and saddening. To elucidate this point, a few examples of ingredients that some restaurants that claim to be local (and seasonal!) use- papaya, endive, tamarind, lotus, citrus, avocado, watermelon (in spring), strawberries (in winter), tomatoes (in winter), pineapple, asparagus(any time of the year!), and so on. As far as I know, there is no such thing as an Ontario citrus plantation or year-round asparagus farm.



Of course, concessions can be made. We are not so resolute in our beliefs that we will not use anything that isn't local. On occassion, a pinch of this or a drizzle of that may very well be used, regardless of it's origin. What is of utmost importance to us? The pleasure of the palate! Therefore, it is okay to use certain ingredients if they add a flavor or texture that would be impossible to obtain otherwise. Locality is not a passing fad-indeed, it was the only way to eat before the global availability of anything at any time took over our plates. By cooking locally, we are returning to our culinary roots, enjoying food whose flavors exemplify our terroir. We do it because we are passionate about it, and, to be sure, there are innumerable restaurants who share our feelings. Celebrate such establishments, and let them know that you appreciate their determination and the time they have put into being local. But to the other's who claim to be local because they think it will bring them droves of customers? Don't trivialize our cause, and don't claim to share our passion.