One Whole Clove

Maple Sugar

[Sucre D'Érable]

 

If I was to endure yet another unfortunate casualty between a sharp kitchen knife, while slicing shallots or plundering through an acorn squash and my own thumb, I am almost positive the shock of discovering maple syrup bleeding out onto the counter top would not startle me in the least. My consumption of maple product is surprising even upon consideration of my location. It is based upon indulgences of this kind that give reason for the medical profession to preach practice of moderation. Sooner or later the apparent takes hold of our vitals and next thing you know blood becomes sap. It is quite easy for me to get carried away when Quebec is the largest maple producer in the world, supplying 80% of the world's maple syrup.

 

So, what is the deal? Maple sap is boiled to make maple syrup and syrup is boiled down to make maple toffee and when the toffee is boiled down again we finally achieve what we call maple sugar. 

Maple sugar, however is not just for kids.  It can be used in recipes as a replacement to common white sugar.  One of my most recently acquired cookbooks, L'Orée du Bois & Formidérable, features such recipes, maple crème brûlée, maple tiramisu cake and maple butter filled dates to name a luscious few.  According to L'Orée du Bois, 

"[Maple Sugar] is another pure product, the only ingredient being maple syrup.  It has a granular texture and a light brown colour.  Top your ice cream, fruit and yogourt with this pure maple product, or use it to cook glazed carrots.  Sprinkle some pure maple sugar on your cappuccino!" 

Mmmmm...just imagine putting a button of this sugary rapture on a scoop of vanilla ice cream or adding a fine dusting to a thin crêpe in the morning. 

When reflecting upon the gifts that trees bear unto us, our contemplation may lead us to consider the marvels of oxygen or robust, ripe summer fruit.  In climates that allow for cold spring nights and mild days, like Vermont, Quebec and Ontario, our thoughts are more focused on the clandestine operations which lay beneath the bark of the great maple.

Split Pea Soup

Soupe Aux Pois has received negative press mainly due to it's colour and texture which are visually unappealing.  It is difficult to entice one into making a recipe based on it's unphotogenic history in pictures, the reason I opted not to produce one myself.

Traditional Quebec soupe aux pois most commonly features yellow peas and and some type of pork (mainly ham bone or salt pork).  If prepared properly, soupe aux pois should be thick, smooth and flavourful. 

So how do I convince one to give pea soup a chance?  Option one would be through acoustic expression in room 1742 at the Queen E in Montreal dressed in nothing more than flannel whites and a hotel duvet.  More effectively I have chosen to throw tradition aside to reach the masses, as my guitar playing is atrocious, and be more Northern European with this version from Bon Appétit.

Split Pea Soup with Sausage and Potato

5 fully cooked spicy smoked sausage links (such as andouille or hot links), cut into 1/2-inch cubes
1 12-ounce russet potato, peeled, diced
1 large onion, chopped
1 1/2 teaspoons chopped fresh rosemary
1 1/4 cups green split peas, rinsed
4 cups low-salt chicken broth

Sauté sausages in heavy large pot over medium-high heat until fat begins to render, about 4 minutes. Add potato, onion, and rosemary. Sauté until onion is soften, about 5 minutes. Mix in split peas, then broth. Bring soup to simmer. Reduce heat to low. Cover and simmer until peas are tender, stirring occasionally, about 50 minutes. If desired, thin soup with water by 1/4 cupfuls. Season soup to taste with salt and pepper. Ladle into bowls and serve. For a less spicy sausage, choose Kielbasa or garlic sausages. 

Makes 4 to 6 servings.

Pets De Soeurs

[Pets de Soeurs]

Could there be a more inappropriate name than Old Women's Bellybuttons (bourriques de veilles)?  How about Nun's Farts?  Now, imagine if you will, the idea of naming a yummy baked good after such ghastly images and occurences.  Credit for this divine sacrilege is due to the French Acadians and surprisingly not the Quebecois. 

At a time when the church's influence was dwindling in French Canada, subtle blasphemy was commonplace.  Believe it or not this is not the worst of it, as there exists a molasses dessert with an even more sinister name.    

Birds, veils and virgins have also been tagged to this sweet pastry perhaps in attempt to eschew these unappetizing namesakes.

So what brought me to bake a confection named after holy flatulence on such a winter's day (have I inadvertently quoted a Mama's and Papa's song?)

I have been curious to attempt to bake these little mysteries for quite sometime now.  I had experienced the store bought variety as a child, then packaged as the infamous assiette de pets or the roughly translated plate of farts.  I loved the sugary and sticky goodness but was ashamed to admit what I had just eaten. 

But by now the novelty of it all just seems so much fun.  With this in mind and the fact that I love French Acadie, their rich heritage (some of which in still apparent in New Orleans) and present day rusticness, how could I not enjoy a homemade fart bun on a cold French Canadian day?  New and improved recipe to come...

Cheese Curd

[Fromage En Grain]

Quebec is gaining international cheese influence boasting some 300 varieties province wide.  Our stinky status is not going unnoticed either.  From Cantonnier to Pied-de-Vent, we come bearing gifts some of which are of the blue veined variety. A force to be reckoned with, the Francophone royals are bathed in a perfume that only raw milk could lend.  It is no longer achievable to take Quebec with a grain of "fleur de sel" or so to speak.  We have a voice and it says "Fromage".

And then there's the cheese curd. Firm and unripened, the curd commonly contains about 27% milk fat and is made from our old familiar buddy, cheddar.

And what more can be said about one infamous little morsel that makes a golden french fry turn two shades of poutine.  Lots I'm afraid, as it possess a strong little voice with a mild flavour.  The cheese curd is somewhat of a scarcity anywhere else but in Quebec and Wisconsin (not unlike the "relationship" between Prince Edward Island and Idaho where potatoes are concerned). So why has it not garnered popularity outside of two unrelated land masses?

This is mainly due to the unripened curd's main attribute, freshness.  Without this one key aspect, a cheese curd is stale and unmentionable.  The texture of the said must be springy, moist (almost wet) with a slightly squeaky bite. To avoid a dry out, curds are better consumed the same day as distribution thus requiring the need for a neighborhood cheese factory.  As an example, the Outaouais region in Western Quebec receives most of it's supermarket curd from La Trappe À Fromage an established Fromagerie. 

So what is curd exactly and why do we care?  Curd is a process by way of cutting through the cheese to release water and whey (the liquid obtained from milk after curdling).  Rennet also plays a major role at the commencement of this production as it has been bestowed the super power of separation.  The enzyme reacts with a protein to form curd.  And finally, why do you care? Mind blowing details like these can only produce a simply delicious result, that must be tried at least once in a lifetime. 

If ever you happen upon a bag of cheese curds, I urge you to buy one, if only for curiosity purposes.  Before diving in, detect for freshness.  Curds are categorized as the lesser of the stinkiest cheese on the planet and leave a mild and almost creamy aroma comparable to that of cream cheese.  Now bite into one and experience the texture.  It may be perceived as odd at first but as your tastebuds sense what has been unleashed it will be like a potato chip in that all bets are on, you cannot eat just one!

Tourtière

Tourtière is a French Canadian meat pie traditionally served at Christmas.  Fact of the matter is, most versions yield and/or are adjusted to yield more than 1 pie.  This makes for a well stocked igloo, er... freezer to keep the Quebecois satisfied throughout the long winter months.  That said, tourtière season is ripe and prime for the able bodied.  Savory steam erupting from beneath a golden flaky crust, just the type of abode I wish crawl into in escape from the banshees that haunt our winter skies. 

Please stay tuned for OWC's original tourtière recipe...

La Vieille Alliance

[Tarte au Citron]

I have finally achieved a second visit to La Vieille Alliance.  It seemed like a simple feat in itself to plan another rendezvous but everything has stopped me from reentering it's sweet embrace.  I admit, I fell head over meals after only one slice of Christmas Eve baguette. 

La Vieille Alliance has had it's hardships.  Last June a fire ravaged through the shop, leaving little more than rubble in it's wake.  The store was barely three years old at the time of the blaze, just establishing itself in a small town.

Five weeks ago, the signs came up, the lights turned on and the cobwebs were cleared from within an old, abandoned heritage house not two minutes from my loft.  The Vieille Alliance rose from the ashes, a true Phoenix in a time of anguish, finding shelter where it may.  A town without a bakery is a town without a an identity.

I snatched up a boite of fleur de sel before I perused the selection of mighty Quebec and French cheeses.

[Pied de vent lait cru, Étorki brebis lait cru, Saint-Agur, Mi-Carême]

Pied de vent (top, left) is an expression for sun rays peeking from behind the clouds.  Now a cheese bearing this description sounds magnificent but a whole fromagerie whereby the goods are processed seems dreamier and creamier. In fact, Pied-Du-Vent is an established fromagerie in the heart of Îles-de-la Madeleine where 47 French-Canadian cows, the Madelinot breed make their distinct mark on the dairy industry. 

Étorki (bottom left) is a French sheep's milk cheese with a dense nutty bite.  I sense a touch of olive, no?

Saint-Agur (bottom middle) a blue veined cheese from the Auvergne region of France has picky, rich notes. 

From the fromagerie Ile-aux-Grues, Quebec, mi-carême is a raw milk cheese with a creamy taste similar to that of Brie.

But a bakery just was not enough and why stop at fine pastries, meats and cheeses when you could open a small restaurant, serving light lunch fare, mainly quiches, salads and soups.  The proprietor, of Irish descent, is surprisingly fluent in both French and English (perhaps even Gaelic) and open to menu suggestions.  I will be back time and time again with tales to tell.  That is a promise!

Today one lone little lemon meringue tartlette made me coo and babble through the glass.  My tongue began to tickle as I thought of the light meringue melting on my buds.  This little baby was mine to bring home.  Staying true to today's Hollywood ideals, until there's a bun in the oven I will just have to adopt.

 
[Meringue]