Burgers a la Wild

June 21 #457

First official day of summer, and for once, the weather went along with the plan. Tonight was supper on the barbie, served up outside on the picnic table.

After hiking up to Avalanche Lake, we were both plenty hungry, so this was going to be a big meal.

When I’d cooked up all those noodles last night (they blew up and made waaay too many), I’d kept some aside and made a macaroni salad. With 24 hours for the flavours to blend, it was a nice accompaniment for the burgers. And cooking along with the burgers on the barbie were some freshly-picked oyster mushrooms we’d found.

For the sake of tradition, and to round out the meal, we heated up a tin of pork ‘n beans.

And even if I am the only ones who eats them, dessert was marshmallows roasted on a stick. My kind of camping!

Lucky detour

As so often seems to happen, our reliable trailblazer, Simon, led us to something we hadn't expected to find -- morels.

Although we've been keeping our eyes open as we hike around, we haven't yet spotted a single edible mushroom out in the bush. But because Simon took us on a roundabout route when a road was blocked, we passed through a neighbourhood where a woman had a roadside stand, selling morels in little containers. Naturally, we were sold and took 'em along.

I was also in a nostalgic mood, as tomorrow we'll be going to Sault Ste Marie, the place where I learned to make "Betty's Mac 'n Cheese." The night seemed to demand I make a stab at re-creating her famous casserole. Since onions and tomatoes are components of her version, in the morning, I'd compromised in my mind and decided I'd have to forgo the tomatoes. Only when we stopped at a gas station for sub-style sandwiches, the server asked if I'd prefer the tomatoes in a container, so the sandwiches wouldn't get soggy before we ate them. When I asked her to please do the same with the lettuce, she agreed and made an even bigger container of same. Perfect. One batch of tomato (and pre-cut at that) ready in the fridge for the final touch to the pre-packaged mac 'n cheese. And even the base for a tiny green salad.

I rounded out the salad with plenty of purple onion and the ever-reliable green peas from the freezer. Really, for living out of the larder, I'd say we're doing pretty darn well!

It's a picnic!

Overall, it's been a miserable November. So tonight we're breaking the dread of it with a picnic.

Somehow, one of those pre-cooked supermarket chickens snuck in here and tonight we've heated it up in the oven so it's cozy and warm. Into the pot with it went some mushrooms the D.M. found yesterday. The crossing-over of flavours is excellent: chickeny mushrooms, mushroomy chicken.

I used the last of the 'found' cabbage to make a slaw and whipped up a plate of devilled eggs (how else could it be a picnic?). Fresh homous and some sliced up bread and we're happenin'.

What a treat!

After spending the day in Vancouver at a workshop, the last thing I'd have wanted to do was figure out something for supper. Happily, I didn't have to.

The D.M. greeted me with news that he'd just filled the bath and that by the time I was cleaned up and relaxed, supper would be served.

He took a page from my book and started with one of our reliably-good packages of au gratin style potatoes. He then added another variety of the mushrooms we'd found the other day (this time, a bolete) to the mix and topped the dish with a few of those delicious sausages (bockwurst) that he'd made with our friend John back in September. Along with a salad filled with chunks of pepper and onion, it made for a beautiful meal.

Must admit, I do love being pampered.

In honour of...

...one of the many people I learned to cook from, Kathleen, a person who should have been celebrating her birthday today.

Instead, I honour her memory by making a poor imitation of her chicken stew, which she always served served over rice.

"For supper, cut-up chicken,
the comfort of stew, thick
and flecked with golden carrots."

In keeping with her traditions, the salad should be made from iceberg lettuce. Since I don't have any, the leafy green stuff has to substitute. I did at least slice the greens into almost-shreds as she would have. I also topped it with the dressing she would have made -- plain oil with a dash of white vinegar, then salt and a whole lot of black pepper.

This supper has a couple of additions -- horseradished beets, the way she would have made them, but something else that's our own distinctive addition. When we went for a walk this afternoon, we found quite a few parasol mushrooms. Fried up as a side dish, they're a treat worthy of a birthday commemoration.

Mixed-up Mexi

That fat little chicken we started on the other night was sitting in the fridge, waiting for a second chance. There was still quite a bit of the mixed rice I'd made as well, so I broke up the breast meat, blended it with the rice, and stuffed the mix into tortillas. The result? Sort of wraps, sort of burritos.

I added a little tin of chorizo peppers to the 'Coq au vin' sauce from the chicken, cooked it a bit for the flavours to blend, then poured that over top of the roll-ups.

I opened a tin of refried beans (not worth cooking them from scratch for two of us) and put those into the oven to heat through at the same time, then topped both pans with grated cheese at the last minute. Because we'd spotted a few fresh helvellas on a late afternoon walk, those went over top of the beans too.

Not really Mexican, but close enough for a Tuesday.

Coincidental

This morning I finished reading a book called Trauma Farm.
It’s a memoir of living on a farm on Salt Spring Island, but also a rambling treatise on what we eat and how it’s grown.

We still had some of those windfall Brussels sprouts I wanted to use, so the whole idea of foraged or pure foods gave me my theme. I must have had the sound of the clucking chickens from Salt Spring in mind, as I decided tonight was the night for one of the free-range birds from the freezer.

I wanted to make something different, so browsed through a couple of cookbooks. Coq au Vin sounded like a dish worthy of these special birds, so I set about compiling a reasonable facsimile of the ingredients and cleared out a jar of last year’s dried chanterelles in the process.

Two cups of wine sounded like a lot, but then I remembered a less-than-successful batch of port from a few years back – something I wouldn’t mind using as much as a bottle of drinkable wine. I figured that using it might also solve the problem of adding bourbon, as specified in the recipe I’d found.

And then wouldn’t you know it, rinsing out the empty bottle, I remembered helping with bottling it. Where else, but Trauma Farm.

Cheers.

The colours of autumn

Gold and red and orange -- and mushroom.

The day before yesterday, when we took that forest stroll, we found a species of mushroom we weren't sure of. So the DM went to The Book, we compared notes on what we'd observed, he even did a spore print to see what colour would result.

Turns out, they're not only edible, they're delectable, so they became a nice addition to tonight's meal of doctored leftovers.

I'd picked out the potato and carrots from the other night's pot roast and was left with some beef and a nice, rich gravy. All I had to do was heat that through and add some sour cream -- voilà, instant stroganoff (or reasonable facsimile thereof). With that over top of some eggy wheat noodles, we had ourselves a main dish. And sprinkled over top of that, the fried-up mushrooms -- magnifique!

Using up some boiled eggs gave us a second protein (plus more salad, more colour). And of course, we had our usual green salad -- tonight flecked with chunks of carrots and walnuts. Lovely colours to complement a colourful season.

A wild mix

Tonight's supper is a mix -- and I mean that both literally and figuratively.

The base is a pasta mix that's been languishing with the camping stuff -- a packet of something called 'spaghetti Alfredo' -- a fast cooking version of the more traditional linguini and cream sauce dish.

But the supper's also a mix in the contrasts presented by what we poured over top of that convenience food pasta. There was nothing mixish about it.

I had some boneless pork I'd been saving for a stir-fry. Instead, I used it as the base for a mini-stew. With an onion, some garlic and two lonesome carrots, it rocked up to be something presentable -- especially with its slow-cooked centrepiece, a large cauliflower mushroom.

One of those little voices in my head convinced me to add add a bit of barbecue sauce to the stew. And yes, that was exactly the right touch.

Slightly wilted beet greens steamed up nice enough to serve as a nutritious side. A very cozy supper on a day that feels like the one that could indeed be the big change from warm days to cool.

Thankful for all that's around

I'm not a gardener. If a plant comes up on its own and survives, I'm thrilled. Beyond that, nothing stands much of a chance.

Still, I'm grateful that we have a few remaining clingers-on in what passes for the garden here, especially as I decided to celebrate our thankfulness by staying away from the shops and making do with what we had on hand.

There was one Cornish hen waiting in the freezer for just such an occasion as Thanksgiving, so she became tonight's main dish.

On the weekend we did a fair bit of foraging and came up with some windfall apples and Asian pears. Today I combined a few of those apples with some straggler berries still hanging on to the blackberry bushes out back. There were even two last-gasp raspberries out by the fence. Because they too went into the mix, I think I can get away with calling the resulting dish a fruit compote, one that serves as a nice substitute for the traditional cranberry sauce.

Since we found so many mushrooms yesterday, the stuffing for the little bird was abundant with chanterelles and corals. A red rice casserole baked in the oven at the same time as the bird. It too was full of mushrooms, mainly big chunks of chanterelles.

One stunted squash worked well as first veg; a panful of sauteed lobster mushrooms did an admirable job of backup.

The salad was a bigger challenge, as there were only a few little tomatoes left on the vines outside. I added some onion, a bit of parsley from the garden and sliced up the last of the lettuce (the bits we didn't use in our sandwiches yesterday). The butt of a chunk of blue cheese played a role in making the salad both filling and festive. A few walnuts from the pantry were the holiday topper.

Although I felt less successful with the drink I tried to make from rose hips (we pruned a gigantic bush like crazy today) and the very last quince, the combo turned out to be more than just scent for the kitchen. A drizzle of it over top of the Cornish hen added exactly the right smoky flavour, as well as a bit of colour.

Even the bouquet on the table was part of the day's found bounty. A good day to give thanks.

Not your average Thursday in Springfield

I know, Homer Simpson likes meatloaf on Thursday. Depending on your point of view, that either puts us in good or bad company. Whichever camp you choose, I don't think there was anything Homerish about what we ate tonight.

As is usually the case around when it comes to dishes with ground meat, the meatloaf was made from buffalo.

After last night's mostly-vegie feast, quite a lot of rice was left, so I stirred up some onion and swirled up the rice with oil and soy sauce for a different sort of side dish. Frozen peas at the last minute gave it some colour and a bit more veg-content.

But the best side dish of all had to be the fresh oyster mushrooms -- ones we found yesterday out on our stroll through the forest. Cooked in a bit of butter (not margarine, no way), they were light and delicious.

Definitely not a meal that would make anyone say Doh!

Hot stuff!

After a late afternoon walk through a nearby forest, a spicy hot supper sounded just right.

It started with eggplants from the garden -- one the traditional purple, the other a white one.

Once those started heating, I gradually added other vegies to the mix. Onions, garlic, half a red pepper, a few bunches of baby bok choy.

There was half a packet of prawns in the freezer, so they got a quick defrost under cold water.

Flavouring was Thai red curry paste and coconut milk. Topping it off were some of today's mushroom findings: a bit of cracked bolete, a solitary chanterelle, and a few bits of coral (you can spot one on top of the mix, to the left). Served with rice, it was hot in both temperature and seasoning. Just what a couple of bushwalkers needed.

Dashing out the door with a dash of spice

It's one of those nights when both of us need to be out of here fairly early (and in opposite directions at that), so the supper is one that's ready whenever -- an arrangement which makes it easy to just grab some and dash out the door.

A pot of chili's been spicing itself and the air in the house for the better part of the afternoon. It's buffalo-based and even has a few dried honey mushrooms in it, just to add to its mystique.

Besides the bowl of chili, some sliced up vegies and a bit of homous -- and then I'm dashing out the door.

Wild Friday Night

I'm sorry to disappoint, but the wildest thing about tonight is probably the addition of the wild mushrooms to tonight's pasta sauce. We found a small but interesting assortment of mushrooms in the forest last weekend.

The ones we're using tonight are cracked boletes. They have a rich flavour and nice texture, and provide a good contrast to the spicy sausages that also helped flavour the sauce.

And hey, who knows. It is Friday. It may still turn a bit wild after all.

Not quite Julia

After seeing an old rerun of Julia Child's cooking show, I got inspired to try making some real omelettes -- not my usual poor excuse of scrambled eggs with peppers or mushrooms cooked in. The fact that we had a few fresh chanterelles to put into them seemed like a clear go-ahead.

Once I'd started cooking the mushrooms, I discovered we only had two eggs, not the four I'd had in mind as waiting in the carton. Still, I was committed, so pulled out some additions to make the meal work.

Because this has been an outdoors kind of day (sunny and beautiful!), I knew that appetites would be big, so I also cooked a few slices of bacon and some pre-made broccoli bites. Sliced tomato and avocado worked just fine as a salad. And in the end, though I don't quite have the knack of Julia's wrist action with the skillet, I think this supper worked out just fine.

Eating in, in style

After a crazy morning of packing and piling camping gear into the car, then taking a ferry and driving up the Island Highway, we settled in for a night at a hotel. It's a place we visit just about every year -- a place where the food is always good, and so are the sleeps.

After a bit of unpacking and a swim in the pool, dinner in the room sounded like the perfect, lazy treat.

The local special, a mixed grill, featured lamb, steak, and chorizo sausage with rice and vegies. As we've experienced other times here, the chef uses plenty of wild mushrooms, an item that's always a treat.

The salad was wonderful too: a perfect avocado, along with spinach, shrimp and bits of fruit -- canteloupe, honeydew and tiny grapes.

It took a while to think of the last time we'd splurged on room service. It turned out to be nearly seven years ago. It was the night before we were leaving Australia and we were madly repacking (following a camping trip) in a hotel room near the Sydney airport. Sounds just about exactly backwards from tonight's excuse for luxury. But hey, once every seven years isn't all that extravagant.

Living off the lot

The city lot, that is. You've probably heard of the 100 Mile Diet. This summer we're aiming for something more ambitious. Our goal? At least a few meals that qualify for the 100 Foot Diet.

We're starting tonight, in a very small way. I'm adding wild lettuce that grows in the yard to the salad and to the pesto. Besides the wild greens, the pesto contains basil and oregano and parsley from the kitchen garden and some coral mushrooms picked last fall.

I know I'm not going to be growing olives to make oil. And not growing wheat to make the pasta. Still, I like being aware of what we're eating and where it comes from.

As for the chicken livers cooking on the barbie, I may well not want to know where those used to live.

Using things up

I like nothing better than using up bits of food. Really, I hate tossing anything (unless it's into the compost).

Tonight's supper saw me using up all kinds of things, starting with the salmon from Saturday. I drizzled a bit of hoi-sin sauce onto the leftovers and put them into the microwave for a heat-through. Sadly, even with a lid, some of the fish managed to explode out onto the sides. Probably needed a clean anyway, still...

I saw a jar of white pasta sauce in the pantry and realized it was getting close to its date to be scary, so I used that as a base to get me going on using up more stuff. First in was a partly used container of ricotta cheese, followed by a small red pepper, chopped up. A few crumples of dried coral mushrooms from last fall, and I left the pot of sauce to simmer while I cooked linguini.

Schlurpy goodness.

Lapin a la biere

I thought 'lapin au biere' would sound better, but it turns out 'beer' is feminine in French, so 'a la' it must be, even if I can't figure out how to include the accent marks.

And yes, 'lapin' means 'rabbit' -- probably a politically incorrect choice for Easter dinner. It's cooked in a beer-based sauce, along with onions, garlic and a handful of wild (lobster variety) mushrooms.

We're having it with quinoa, squash and a salad -- lots of golden yellow foods, especially as the quinoa has grated carrots in it. Happily, after too many hours of grey skies and hard rain today, the sun has agreed to shine on the last few hours of this Easter Sunday. Golden skies, golden food, bless us all.

Not quite the Last Supper

I've been thinking about my mother a lot, and remembered her saying I'd been born on the Tuesday of Holy Week -- that'd be this week, the one preceding Easter.

That led me to think tonight must be the night of the famous Last Supper. So I got to wondering what they had for supper that night.

Among things I learned is that da Vinci's Last Supper is the most popular subject for paint-by-number kits. But aside from everyone agreeing that bread and wine were served, I couldn't find anything too concrete, besides conjecture that they probably had sauce for dipping the bread in.

For our 'sauce' I guess we're having gravy. Because the day began cool and grey, I started up a pot roast (beef) earlier. It cooked all day to tenderness before I added potatoes, carrots, onions and wild mushrooms (boletes) -- which leads to the wildest story I'd found during my research: Jesus eating psychedelic mushrooms. Really, the Internet has everything!