Its where i belong

Im dutch. You know it, I know it, my family is quite proud to know it and make sure other people know it. But i will say it again (and probably several--many--more times to come): im more Italian than anything.
Even more Italian than i am Canadian. Gasp! Where is my sense of patriotism? Sadly, it left with the addition of pineapple to thick crust pizzas and remains only in my devotion to proper winter wear, toques, scarves, mittens et al. It left with bacon, yes, bacon; which translates to i am not really a big fan of pancetta, at all... just dont tell my Italian "kin".
There are plenty of other uses of pork, however, that i love; that keep me from becoming a vegetarian. And the Italians, they know pig. They use the whole damn thing. Nose to tail and all the shrapnel in between the goods in between. And i saw it get put to use tonight.
I found my little Italy. My consellation- Italy- for- my- one- and- a- half- loss- at- real- Italy Italy. La Quercia, where, finally, i have entered the kitchen. Bad enough that it took my October last year to my birthday this past week to eat there, but i left staging there until my last mere minutes in this city. All the more reason to make every minute count.
And eat as much as possible. And by much i mean meat. Oh goodness all the meat tonight (including pancetta). Every thing that was cooked was offered to taste and then some. I even drank pasta cooking water to note the salt level (high by the way; shockingly high but for good reason).
Why i left this until now, i do not know. Why i didnt spend my whole winter here...oh how things may have been different, so different. Better late than never, though, and i plan to use and thoroughly appreciate my time there as best i can before going back to reality, and working on making actual Italy a reality.
This is like a whole new mini adventure, and i will be posting my learnings and exaggerated love for Italy, for La Quercia in general for the next week or so (possibly longer, but then it will be more I miss than i learned). More on tonight later, i have Marsala and dessert to enjoy.

Are we there yet?

The groundhog not seeing his shadow, and even more technically than that, 2011 not being a leap year and something to do with Earths proximity to the sun and universal rotation something something (i read this somewhere legitimatley reliable and far better explained, i swear) means that spring is on its way sooner than later and i could not be happier.

Nor could i be more impatient. The weather here in Vancouver has been a tease: sunny and warm, sunny and cold, gray and warm, gray and cold, unusually without rain and then out of nowhere and belatedly christmasy, feet of snow. The randomness of it all has me changing my spring optimism as often as i am forced to change my shoes.

Springs official arrival means alot more to me this year than warmer weather (socklessness and skirts), peas and rhubarb--theres also garlic scapes, sorrel, rapini, salad greens, and herbs...i am half kidding here. In all seriousness, though, i miss fresh food; local food. Even frozen local food stowed for winter in my inaccessible kelowna freezer. Here in Vancouver i havent been able to make the farmers market for work, and i miss that shopping desperately. Please, add in some dramatic sighs and tones of longing here, because really, nothing would calm my soul more than celeriac and rutabaga from the Vernon market. Thats right, rutabaga, or swede; that is what my heart longs for. Such simple things to love and miss.

And to look forward to. Because it is coming, just ask the groundhog. Soon i will be moving home for spring planting. For opening the restaurant. For reunions that begin with "i cant believe the whole winter has passed." Oh i long to say that: "i cant believe winter is over...thank god." I feel like an impatient child strapped into the backseat of the car, forced to sit still until at least the next bathroom break, growing increasingly restless as the stack of archie comics gets worked through and the snacks stale and dwindle. ArewethereyetArewethereyetArewethereyet?????? how bout now?

Soon. Soon spring and all its freedom and re-newness will be here.

Happy Groundhogs Day!

...and cheers to an early spring with sunshine and peas

Things that make me love what i do

Winter is tough. Im not talking about shovelling sidewalks uphill while the snow mockingly continues to fall, wearing so many layers that walking becomes waddling and you can hardly see between your scarf and toque while the snow, again, still, mockingly falls. No, i am talking about the lack of things growing, and my serious lack of inspiration for cooking.

Last year i was devoted to the Winters farmers market, and lived off stored vegetables and winter greens. And it was blissful. This year, there is no market (well, there is, but making a living doesnt allow me to go...), and my mini deep-freeze, plum full of spring and summers harvest is in my home five hours away and i am simply not desperate enough to brave the snowy Coquihalla for frozen peas. There have been alot of anchovies lately. Too many olives. Way too much cheese. Definately to much California and beyond produce. I am feeling guilty and horribly uninspired.

Really, i cannot remember the last time that i truly enjoyed dinner. Its not all the well-travelled produces fault either. It has to do with not being in my own kitchen free to play and cook as long as i want; to the long commute to any decent markets, then the long commute back that leaves little time to cook what was intended with the market visit. It has to do with missing home. Even the bowls that i would eat dinner out of. It has to do with feeling completely passionless.

For you and for me, here are a few things that reassure me that I love, passionately, what i do:

-- new things on the tables of markets, revealing the season and providing new things to cook with.

--good bread

--the smell of gently sauteeing onions and garlic--pure therapy

--amazing three ingredient meals

--baking/eating cookies

--perfectly soft poached eggs

--olive oil

--risotto and its need for devotion

--softly whipped cream

--all things Italy

--new things curried or Moroccan

--cooking for or eating with others

--breakfast; uncomplicated, and enjoyed with the newspaper


--breakfast; slightly more complicated, enjoying fresh baked scones or pancakes

--after work "meals" (think peanut butter toast and eggs; leftovers; pasta; cereal)

--the after work drinks

--the before and during work cold cups of coffee

--when simple really does turn out to be best (or rather, not bothering with complicated for knowing that simple almost always turns out best)

There is not a career that i would rather be doing, i cannot even think of one that might replace anything to do with cooking, but right now, cooking is more work than it has ever been.