. . .
I have two worst-case vacation scenarios in life: Disney World and cruise ships. I mention this because I’m on a break from school this week, and people seem disappointed that I haven’t exercised either of those options to relax. If I were taken hostage by a nefarious street gang, either of those scenarios could be used as a merciless means of torture. Let’s discuss my reasons for avoiding cruise ships. (I believe Disney World is self-explanatory.)
. . .
Let me preface this anecdote by telling you that my mother, Rosie Beaucoup, adores 2.0. Like, worships at the alter of his awesomeness. And she couldn’t be happier he has come into my her life. But for a time she worshipped at another alter. The alter of David Humphreys.
Growing up, I had a close-knit circle of friends. We did everything together. I spent a lot of my childhood in their homes. And it was in one of those homes that Rosie Beaucoup found David Humphreys. And then Rosie decided that I should marry David Humphreys.
David Humprheys was the older brother of my friend Susan – he was two years ahead of us in school. I don’t know how it was where you grew up, but in my mind? Two years was the San Andreas Fault of divides. I would never have even considered talking to someone who was cool enough to have been born two years before me. NEVER. But David was the nicest boy on the planet, and treated all of Susan’s friends like they were real, live, human beings, despite the fact that he played sports. (Dudes who play sports in a small town high school are the next level of cool – they are untouchable.)
I often think of the Humphreys clan at this time of year, as they invited me over to their house each December to decorate their Christmas tree. Because at my house, I wasn’t allowed to touch the tree. Ever. My mother was freakin’ Martha Stewart before Martha Stewart was. My mother invented frozen yogurt and pudding pops – she just didn’t get the credit for it. And my mother wasn’t gunna let her snot-nosed kids destroy her magazine worthy tree. Nope. No way. But at the Humphreys’ house? Tinsel Town, baby. You could put ornaments wherever you wanted. You could layer on the garland and popsicle stick artwork. The branches were laden with glitter and lights, and no one cared about colour balance or themes. If it sparkled, it was on that tree. It was awesome.
Now, though Rosie Beaucoup understood the rules of pulling together the perfect Christmas tree, she did not understand the rules of high school. And even if she did, she probably wouldn’t have played by them. Which is why one Christmas I arrived at the Humprheys’ house for our annual tree decorating bonanza to find a photo of myself in a heart shaped frame sitting on the coffee table. And when I saw it, and basically freaked out, I was told that MY MOTHER GAVE DAVID HUMPHREYS A PHOTO OF ME IN A HEART SHAPED FRAME FOR CHRISTMAS. Which meant that all of his cool, older-than-me high school friends would have seen it too. As in: the entire senior boys basketball team would have seen my SCHOOL PHOTO in a heart shaped frame on the Humphreys’ coffee table. She used a school photo, people. The indignity.
So I had to move to Alaska and survive on this soup for the remainder of my teen years.
This soup is the perfect soup for getting over a cold or high school travesty. It will warm your bones, it will heal you. It tastes of carrots and a hint of wine. It’s flavour is gentle, so it pairs well with any number of main dishes, or easily stands on it’s own. I’ve been making it for years and years, and I’ll never tire of it. Just like I’ll never tire of Rosie Beaucoup’s staunch belief that I deserve the best of everything in this life, and her desire to hand it to me in a heart shaped frame.
Oh, and just so you know, David Humphreys is happily married and reproducing. I went to the wedding with 2.0.
. . .
Carrot and Leek Soup – adapted from a recipe handed on to me by Rosie Beaucoup - print and make
Serves 6-8 people.
*optional: sometimes I add 1/4 – 1/2 teaspoon of freshly grated ginger into this soup for a little zing (especially when I’m fighting off a cold).
In a large Dutch oven, heat the olive oil over medium heat and then add the leeks and onion. Cook until softened – about 5 minutes. (*If using ginger, I stir it in once the leeks and onions are soft, and cook for 1 minute.)
Next, add the potatoes, carrots and apple and then cover with chicken broth. Add the salt, pepper and wine. Stir, cover loosely, and cook until the vegetables are tender – about 20 minutes. Remove from heat and cool slightly.
Blend the soup to a smooth, creamy texture using an immersion blender. (You could also use a blender or food processor. Be careful – hot liquids can spray and burn you – if using a blender or food processor, blend in small batches.)
Return the blended mixture to the stove over low heat, and stir in the evaporated milk (or cream if using). Allow to heat through before serving.
Note: this soup freezes well.
. . .
I’ve been meaning to give you a baking school update, but going to school full time whilst still working part time is a combination that makes you feel like crud. I’m up at about 5 am each morning, and then I’m at school for the day (sweating, crying, etc.). In the afternoon, I head home to do homework/study, or I’m off to work. Saturday is spent at the studio teaching, which means the list of things to accomplish on Sundays is absolutely ridiculous. I’m totally wiped. Chores have been neglected, lists have been made and left untouched. I wear the same four outfits repeatedly, and all involve yoga pants. Our house looks like a biker gang has moved in.
But since it’s been weeks, I will give you a little really long update. I didn’t want you to think I’d been sucked into a 60 quart mixer and maimed by a dough hook. So, here’s how things are going down at school: we work in teams, and we rotate through different stations – or, areas of trauma. When I arrive at school in the morning, I usually feel like barfing. I’m assuming this will go away one day – perhaps the week of graduation. Also, when my chef instructor says, “this is going to be fun,” I know that it will not, in fact, be fun.
Let’s break down the past few weeks, shall we?
Week 5: a crap-load of stuff made with pumpkin. This was the week leading into Canadian Thanksgiving, so there were apple pies and pumpkin pies – a bazillion of ‘em – which meant lots of pie crusts. My first attempt at pie crust in the previous week was so pathetic, that it became the standard for worst pie to beat. But it’s also the first time I can remember my chef instructor laughing that hard, so that’s something. Week 5, combined with 4.5 million blog posts about pumpkin-anything on the interwebs, has created such an aversion to pumpkin that the mere sight of it makes me feel like I’m gunna greet my guts.
Week 6: Bakery Outlet. My program runs a bakery outlet on campus to help us get some real-world experience – the products we make in the kitchen are sold in there. Part of our program is business based – we learn about the basics in customer service, marketing, running a bakery, etc. We also take a course in entrepreneurship, so by the time we leave, we will have a business plan in hand. It’s pretty cool. Week 6 was also my first week with a new team. There are three of us (making us the smallest team in the class). We span three generations – our youngest team member is 20, I am 40, and the oldest is 62. My teammates are both dudes. I like to think of myself as the rose between two thorns. I doubt my teammates would agree.
Week 7: European Breads. French baguettes, pain de campagne, pain d’epi, Italian loaves, French loaves, fougasse. Turns out baguettes are not easy to roll – baguettes are bastards. There was another batch of dough turned black, but it wasn’t me this time. And there was a disastrous day – a day when we failed as a team, and completely fell apart. This, invariably, happens. As soon as I feel confident about something at school – anything – it is immediately followed by a colossal failure. On the plus side, there was a food drive victory – thanks in part to you. Some of you even called in cash donations! I was amazed by your generosity, and will be forever grateful. We got some people fed – people who hadn’t been fed in days. In fact, I’m still collecting food – because there are still hungry people, and because when you’ve had a bad day in the kitchen, it’s nice to remember that things could be worse.
Week 8: North American Breads. Whole wheat, raisin, cheese, and kaiser. Kaiser doesn’t sound very North American to me, but I’ve learned to stop questioning these things. This was supposed to be the easy station, because we’ve got the most experience in this area. And for the most part, my team did well. This was the week that I learned that there are “no dumb questions.” And also, “that’s a dumb question, you should know that by now.” So… there was confusion.
Week 9: Quick Breads. Cinnamon rolls, country tea biscuits, morning glory muffins and French apple pies. One of the most dreaded stations in the rotation – and not just because morning glory muffins have raisins and pineapple in ‘em. I know what you’re thinking: what’s so hard about muffins and stuff? Well, let me tell you: when you go to baking school, your ability to think for yourself, utilize common sense, and draw on past experience completely leaves your body. You lack confidence, and you start second guessing everything. So, a country tea biscuit could be on fire, and you might find yourself standing beside your chef instructor asking, “do you think that biscuit is done?” But I guess that’s okay because there are no dumb questions. (Unless your question is dumb.)
So, there you have it. An update. And now, some soup. Because soup is basically what I’m living on these days. This chicken soup might be considered a stoup – because there’s lots in it, and it’s quite hearty as a result. There are veggies in there to make you smarter. Chicken to release the serotonin you so desperately need. And it is easily adapted to help you get rid of whatever that bike gang left in your veggie crisper.
This week I hit the final station in our first rotation: cakes. The most feared station of all. Wish me luck…
. . .
Chicken, Veggie and Rice Soup/Stoup - print and make
Serves 6-8 people, depending on serving size.
NOTES: this recipe adapts easily to fresh or frozen vegetables. Put fresh veggies of your choice in at the beginning of the cooking process (as indicated below), and add any frozen veggies in the last 20-30 minutes of cooking time. This recipe requires a large Dutch oven or soup pot.
In a large Dutch oven, over medium-high heat, heat the olive oil and begin to cook the chicken pieces. After about 3-4 minutes, add the celery, onions, carrots, garlic, tomatoes and zucchini. Cook until the veggies have softened a little (about 5-7 minutes).
Add the chicken broth, wine, black pepper, red pepper flakes, and thyme. Reduce the heat to low, cover and let simmer for at least an hour.
After at least an hour of simmering, add the rice, frozen corn, peas and cauliflower. Allow to cook for an additional 20-30 minutes – the cooking time will vary depending on the sort of rice you are using. For example, I like to use brown rice, and this takes longer to cook than white rice. Be sure to check the doneness of the rice before serving.
. . .
You’ve probably been wondering. Wondering about baking school. Whelp, let me tell you: weeks three and four of baking school kicked my ass, complete with a total breakdown in the kitchen last Thursday. My team fell apart – we crashed and burned. Everything that could go wrong, did. I wanted to crawl into the walk-in refrigerator. And when my chef instructor turned to me and said, “smile,” I lost it. I cried. At school. And it was mortifying.
When I got home I crawled into bed, pulled the covers up over my head, had a good cry, and contemplated my odds of making it through the year at school. That’s what big change does to you, people. It makes you really stupid. It makes you doubt yourself. It makes you watch your first ever episode of the Bachelorette. It makes you think that things can’t get any worse. And that’s what I thought: things can’t get any worse.
Until a few hours later, when 2.0 walked in on me while I was peeing in the bathroom.
Here’s the thing about our en suite bathroom. The door doesn’t close for most of the year. The humidity of our Maritime climate makes the door swell, so during spring, summer and fall, the door doesn’t really close. This means that the door is basically useless. This also means that when using the facilities, I always yell out, “I’m using the bathroom! Don’t come in! DON’T COME IN!” I yell it emphatically, so there can be no doubt. I yell it so 2.0 won’t come in. Because 2.0 seeing me on the toilet? That’s my worst case scenario, people. We are not one of THOSE couples. It has been agreed upon. No seeing each other on the toilet. EVER.
When 2.0 arrived home from work on Thursday and found me in bed, he immediately swung into action. When he asked, “how was school today,” he hardly batted an eye when I sputtered, “hard. Really, really hard,” and basically wiped my snot all over him. We didn’t speak of baking school. It was a relief. Pizza was ordered, encouraging words were shared, and the night was spent on the couch. By bedtime, I was feeling much better. (Pizza gives you perspective.) So, as we readied ourselves for bed, I called out, “I’m in the bathroom! Don’t come in,” as I do each and every night.
But moments later 2.0 came in. 2.0 came in and saw me on the toilet.
“NOOOOOOOOO,” I screamed, “I’m peeing! I’m peeing! I’m PEEEEEEING!” 2.0 spun and ran from the bathroom. “What the hell,” I yelled. “Why, why, why would you come in when I’m in here? WHYYYYYY? We have an agreement! A SYSTEM!” My mind was racing. How would we recover from this? How could I erase the image of me… that way… from his brain? Rip off my pyjamas? Rip off my pyjamas seductively? Set myself on fire?
Eventually, I stomped out of the bathroom. 2.0 looked apologetic. He tried to explain that he thought I was… done in there, but it didn’t matter. It was too late. The damage had been done. And all of a sudden I was pretty excited to get to baking school the next day. I mean, no one walks in on you when you’re peeing at college.
I’ve blogged about this chili before, but I’ve made it better. I’ve made it more movita. I’ve upped the meat and beans – because 2.0 asked me too, and I don’t hold grudges. The celery and onions give the chili a little oomph – they make it hearty. The cumin in this chili is money – it gives it a smokey flavour. Start with 1 tablespoon as I’ve indicated, but add a little more if you want to. There are lots of beans, because 2.0 really likes them, and they are good for you. They will make you smarter. They will make you jump higher. They will make you run out of bathrooms fast – should you need to.
I get that you’re going to be upset that I’ve paired a story about bathrooms with a recipe for chili. But you’ll get over it. You’ll get over it just like I’ll get over a bad day or two at school. Because it will be worth it in the end. Just in case you’re worried – I still love baking school. And eventually? It’s going to love me right back.
. . .
Chili - print and make
Serves about 6-8 people, more or less depending on serving size.
Heat 1-2 tablespoons of olive oil in a large pot or Dutch oven over medium heat. Add the ground beef and cook, breaking up the ground beef with your spoon/spatula. When the beef is halfway browned/cooked, add the celery, green pepper, onions and garlic. Continue cooking over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until the beef has cooked through. (At this point, I like to drain off some of the excess fat.)
Once the beef has cooked through, add the tomatoes (juice and all), chili powder, cumin, salt, pepper, mustard powder and red pepper flakes. Stir well to combine. Simmer over low to medium low heat for an hour, stirring occasionally.
Stir in the kidney beans during the last 15-20 minutes of cooking.
Serve garnished with shredded cheese if desired.
. . .
Three weeks from today I will start baking school. So, I was pretty excited when I got a call from Murphy Gear this morning to say that my clogs had arrived. My steel-toed, anti-slip, anti-shock, anti-pretty SIKA safety clogs. Quite a transition in footwear from the last time I went to school.
In the store, I was very calm when I paid for my shoes and then carried them out to the car. But when I got home? I put them on right away, and gave ‘em a little spin – just to make sure they were okay. Then I walked around the house a few times just to be extra sure. But after that, I put them back into the box so they wouldn’t get dirty. I tried to do some chores, but the clogs were calling me. So I took them back out of the box, wore them for a few more minutes, and put them away again. But then I had to take them out just one more time to show niles the cat. Because he was sniffing the box and seemed very interested. And finally, like a responsible adult, I put them back in the box for safe keeping. In the kitchen. (Just in case.)
Clogs are cause for celebration. Whenever something exciting happens, you should get to eat a special treat – like this shrimp. This is the sort of thing I eat when 2.0 is away, because he doesn’t like shrimp. I’m not celebrating that he’s away. I’m celebrating that I can eat shrimp without anyone wrinkling up their nose and saying, “yuck.” This shrimp is also the sort of thing one might eat when one is excited about something like, say, clogs. This is my favourite shrimp recipe – I’ve been making it this way for years. I always eat it by myself, with my fingers. The shrimp is sweet and the sauce is peanutty. The soya sauce and ginger give the sauce some saltiness and spice, and the balsamic vinegar balances things out. It is, in my mind, heaven. And the perfect treat.
You could serve this shrimp over rice if you want to. That would probably be sensible. Or you could make this shrimp, dump it onto a big plate, and eat it all by yourself, with your fingers. Perhaps whilst watching a true-crime show on the television.
Also, just so you know, there’s a good chance I’ll be wearin’ my clogs to bed tonight.
. . .
Movita’s Favourite Shrimp – adapted from Haddy’s Shrimp Pasta - download and print
Yields enough to feed about 4 people if served over rice.
Combine the sesame oil, peanut butter, soya sauce, balsamic vinegar, red pepper flakes, ginger, garlic, green onion and 1/2 tablespoon of water in a large skillet over medium heat. Allow the peanut butter to melt and the sauce to thicken slightly (2-3 minutes).
Add the shrimp to the skillet. Allow the shrimp to cook through (only a few minutes – less if you’re using cooked shrimp). Add a little more water if you’d like a runnier sauce.
Serve over rice or eat as is.
