Everything Good To Eat: Apricot Pie

"Summer was everything good to eat; 

it was a thousand colors in a parched landscape." 

~Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird

This is the point of summer when I'm savouring every detail, every day. The way the warm breeze flows into the house at night, moving the curtains just so. I know the cool nights are coming, but I'm not quite ready for them. I'm thoroughly enjoying ice cream on the patio, as the dragonflies swoop under the trees, which are beginning to change, but I pretend I don't see the yellowing of leaves. Whenever I put on a pretty summer dress, I feel the fabric and admire the way it swirls about my hips, all the while thinking that this could be the last time I wear it this year. End of August always has me feeling a little choked up, like I'm saying goodbye to a lover, forever. I savour every moment we have together, whether it's driving out on country roads to look at the stars, or one last dip of the toes in the lake. Late August has me feeling like this Cat Stevens song and I'm not sorry.

Summer Break: Fried Bannock and Book Updates

I'm back!  It's been awhile.  I hope your summer is off to a wonderful start.  How is it that half the year is already over?  Gah!  When I think about it, I've done so much in the past few months, been so many places with the cookbook, I'm happy to have a bit of breather over the next couple of months.  Plans are beginning to shape up for the fall, but right now, I just want to enjoy what is happening at the moment.  Be here now, and all that.  But first, a little recap of my Toronto trip.  Go grab a coffee (cold brew or otherwise).  I'll wait. 

Dive In: Spiced Rhubarb Skillet Cake with Streusel Topping

"Oh my God, what if you wake up some day, and you're 65, or 75, 

and you never got your memoir or novel written; 

or you didn't go swimming in warm pools and oceans all those years 

because your thighs were jiggly and you had a nice big comfortable tummy; 

or you were just so strung out on perfectionism and people-pleasing 

that you forgot to have a big juicy creative life, of imagination and radical silliness 

and staring off into space like when you were a kid?  

It's going to break your heart.  Don't let this happen."  ~ Anne Lamott

And just like that, we've shimmied into summer.  My God, I love it.  All of it.  Tank tops and late night thunderstorms.  Warm pools and lakeside picnics.  Fireworks and flip flops.  Peaches and more peaches.  Road trips and just-picked raspberries.  Cold beer and warm hearts.  Toes in sand.  Tomatoes on the vine.  The evening breeze through wide open windows.  Ice cream, always.  A bonfire's crackle and pop.  The smell of a forest.  The sound of early morning, when it's just you and the birds.  Tall glasses of iced sweet tea.  A good book and some shade.  The laughter of old friends.  The glide of a canoe.  The call of the wild.  The sun's rays on damp skin.  Floating on water.  Staring up at the sky.  What are you waiting for?  Dive in.  

The Last Hurrah: Baked Peaches with Almond Crust

It has been a ritual of sorts.  Every Sunday, for the past several weeks, I head to the farmers market.  There is a fruit truck there, you see.  And it beholds soft, fuzzy peaches from British Columbia.  I place about 8 or so in a bag - and they are all for me.  The kind-looking woman at the checkout knows.  You like the peaches, she says.  I  nod.  And she nods too.  Yes.  They are good.   And when they get home, they won't last the week.  I typically let them ripen on the counter until they smell just about right, and their flesh gives a little.  Then I bite into one and let the juices dribble down my chin, arms.  Sometimes this happens while I'm hovering over the sink (and I promise, I never eat over the sink, but I can't help myself) or it happens while sitting under my favourite tree in the backyard.   It's a ritual of sorts that is slowly coming to an end, because as goes summer, as go the peaches.  These last days of summer are numbered; the crisp mornings and faint cry of the geese overhead tell me so.  Just like a reluctant lover, no matter how hard you hold on, goodbye must be said.  Oh, but it was fun while it lasted. 

Chill Out: Strawberry Balsamic Ice Cream

Whoa Nelly.  I hope to all goodness that you had a better week than I did.  You know those days when all you really want to do is have a mid-day meltdown, throw yourself face-first onto the bed and cry your face off like a two year old? Yeah that.  For a few days last week that's pretty much what needed to be done.  Work was stupid busy, and suddenly our glorious, gluten-free bread which is essentially the talk of the town - the stuff that I make every day - well it stopped being so glorious.  In fact it was crap.  It wasn't rising properly and was a hollow crater inside.  Folks were coming far and wide for a slice and we weren't able to offer them any.  In case you aren't aware - baking gluten free is a different animal.  There's no bag of all-purpose flour to dip into and there you go, carry on with your recipe.  Na-ah.  Gluten free bread requires a carefully orchestrated symbiosis of flours and starches and gums and yeast and vinegar, and if one or more ingredients is defective, well you are in trouble.  I was in the shit.  After a couple of days of CSI: Gluten Free Baking Edition, we discovered the brown rice flour was stale.  Yes, stale.  It's lack of freshness destroyed the product and basically my soul.  Everyone was so kind and supportive, but this bread is essential to the restaurant and if it flops, then that's not cool.  The pressure I felt was my own, dumped onto these shoulders that can only carry so much.  But holy Jesus, the relief I felt when a batch turned out absolutely perfect, made with fresh brown rice flour.  I almost cried, yet again, but this time with joy instead of frustration.  Oh the learning curve of cooking and baking with entirely new ingredients.  As we discovered last week - it can be a steep one.  But this was a good lesson for me - yes about the flour - but also how I need to chill the hell out.
 

Roasted Rhubarb & Vanilla Bean Clafoutis

Hark!  It's finally here!  The first day of summer y'all!  I just broke so many blogging rules by my gratuitous use of exclamation marks, but whatevs.  Summer is here and I'm happy.  Considering I was buried under a cloak of never-ending winter, I need this summer.  And I need it to be good.  Thoughts of these sun-soaked days are what kept me going when there was 4 feet of snow remaining in my yard mid-April.  These are the days not to be taken for granted.  So get all up in your summer.  Roll around in it.  Breathe it in and let it take over you.  Make it the best short-term relationship you've ever had.  

Worth It: Chocolate & Sour Cherry Cake

90 days.  90 days since there's been anything chocolaty on the blog.  Sure there was that Raspberry and White Chocolate Tiramisu, but we all know white chocolate doesn't really count in the chocolate world.  No, there hasn't been anything deep dark and delicious since the time that crazy good Pecan Caramel Fudge Pie made an appearance way back in June.  June!  Do you remember June?  Summer was just beginning to breathe; full of promise and sunshine and the excitement of holiday playtime.  I hope you played well and hard, friends.  

Summer in a Bowl: Watermelon, Feta & Mint Salad

How in the world is it possibly the first day of August?  Not to be all Debbie Downer on ya, but summer is half over, you realize that.  So, please tell me you are having loads of fun, okay?  That you are sucking in the sunshine and breathing out wisps of joy.  I hope you've walked on beaches and dug your toes in sand and eaten too many marshmallows, and maybe seen a falling star (or two) and made very.important.wishes, because they come true you know.  If you haven't done any of that stuff yet (me neither) don't fret, you still have time.  But summer won't last forever so read this post because it's very important you do, then get out there and soak in some summatime.  Slather on the SPF 45 first though, right?

Underdog: Apricot & Ginger Tarte Tatin

Given the circumstances, this tart should never have existed.  I was definitely having one of those days where nothing, it seems, was turning out, but because of my stubborn disposition I was not going to let this tart die an unfortunate death because I knew it would be glorious, and it was.