the carrot, not the stick...

 it is currently -8°C (14°F), feeling like -18°C (1­°F), as i begin. i just got through nearly dislocating my (already injured) shoulder by wrenching open a door that was frozen shut. oh… and i am battling my first head cold of the season. 

happy Winter Solstice, everyone!

what was so important that it was worth the risk of (re)injury, you ask? an agreement that cannot be broken, i respond. i was concerned that the birds and the squirrels would not realize that there was food in their special bowl, so i ventured out just long enough to brush away some of the snow and top it up with a handful of (unfrozen) food. 

selfless as it may seem, this is actually a carefully calculated investment. i developed a significant case of SAD-ness last Winter, and i ended up befriending a squirrel. my new friend started showing up every day for lunch, and i obliged by sharing my food. the problem with feeding Nature is that you end up also feeding Nature’s friends. fast-forward to the present, and we are buying raw peanuts and bird feed by the kilo. lucky for me, Nature has the coolest friends! 

i was initially afraid that feeding Nature would result in the total destruction of this Summer’s balcony garden project. turns out, Nature responds much better to the carrot, not the stick. 

i was so convinced that the squirrels would take my Wintertime offerings as an invitation to consume everything, that i planted a test-run garden in one of the window boxes. i went with plants that could withstand the cold, as it was still early in the season. enter… lettuce and nasturtiums! 

i had already accepted the likelihood of finding it uprooted the next day, and having to reconsider our plans for the transplants we had already ordered from the nursery. what happened, you ask? absolutely nothing, i respond. we harvested the larger lettuce leaves every couple-few days, and the plants kept going for several weeks, before bolting. 

and, just like that, an understanding was formed. we made a daily offering to Nature, and our plants remained undisturbed. it sounds too simple to be true, but the carrot really worked, and i rewarded their self-control by occasionally adding something special to the mix. the birds and the squirrels all seem to enjoy the petals and seeds from the zinnias. they gobbled up any flowers that fell to the ground, but they never messed with the plants. so, i might include that in the mix.

or, an occasional sweet treat, just for the squirrels. yes, i eat Honeycomb cereal. have i lost your respect for that? 

i placed sections of chicken wire on top of the soil, to discourage the squirrels from digging there, but they left everything else alone. everything, that is, except for the mini sunflower. it was downright comical having to move that one pot around, and every new location seemed to further enrage the squirrel. that poor sunflower must have done something extra-wrong in a past life.

there was also that time we took too long getting out of bed, so the squirrel let itself in to get some peanuts. i kid you not… the squirrel figured out how to open the safety latches on the cat door, and it came in for breakfast. nothing else was disturbed. the squirrel had one target, and when it had satisfied that hunger, it went right back out the kitty door. i should point out that the cat absolutely refuses to use the flap, as she enjoys the frustration of making me open and close doors at her command. so, i just shook my head in defeat and taped it shut. 

the season quickly drew to a close. the large planters were covered and neatly stacked for the Winter, and the last harvest of beans was consumed with ramen. i have gotten much better at resisting the allure of wheaty things (allergies, if you are new here), but i still indulge every now and then.  

 still, Nature kept showing up.

sometimes, it brought a date. it took weeks to finally get a shot of these two together, as the female (i assume, as she is the smaller of the two) takes off at the slightest movement. their coloring becomes slightly washed out in the Winter, and they start looking less blue, and more like silvery-violet jays.

you enjoy that meal, friend. 

i took tons of photos of this year’s garden, and i plan hope to share more of them. maybe i will do so during the SADdest part of Winter, when i need to be reminded of the existence of sunshine and warmth. 

until then, i am taking all of the precautions to avoid a relapse of last Winter. most of all, i am making plans. 

next year's balcony garden project will be the best one yet. that is, if we manage to survive the Winter… and the (literal) gangs of turkeys that have been attacking people all over the city. Montreal is wild, for real. 

April in (not) Paris...

there is also my other favorite new thing. kinda looks like a bowl of spaghetti and uncooked brain, no? it is not food, but does come with a bit of a sweet backstory.

you see... i had a childhood friend named April, although no one—including her family— ever called her that. we went to the same private school in Brooklyn, where we were part of a friendship quintet of sorts. the title of my best friend, however, went to one of the other girls in that clique. 

then, everything changed when high school attacked!

our quintet parted ways, and all of those friendships quickly evaporated... except for April. our families lived in different parts of the City (mine in Brooklyn, hers in Queens), and we went to high schools in different parts of the City (mine in lower Manhattan, hers in the north Bronx). still... she quickly became my most-trusted confidant, and my (occasional) accomplice in mischief... before, during, or after the fact, as required. she was my best friend!  

April went to a college several states away, and she remained several states away. her family had experienced some difficulties, and they chose to pick up the pieces and carry on closer to where she was. we never tried to force "keeping in touch". after so much sorrow and loss, i understood why she wanted to stay gone. 

and, just like that... i lost my best friend. 

i bring up all of this because her name—although no one ever called her that—and the memory of that friendship is the only positive thing i have to say about "April". as far as the calendar is concerned... April is dead to me!

January and February can be a battle for your sanity in this ridiculously cold place, but April...? April is a treacherous, back-stabbing bi... April sucks! 

there i was, repotting some seedlings, and foolishly making plans for this year's balcony garden project...

when April in Montreal happened. fifteen(ish) years in this place, and it still gets me every single time.

him: there is a snowfall warning in effect for Quebec and the Greater Montreal Area.

me: say what, now?

him: there is a snowfall warning in effect for Quebec and the Greater Montreal Area... if we even get any snow at all. 

the next day. 

i felt sorry for Norbert. he looks like Tyrone Biggums waiting to score. bonus point if you got that. 

i am genuinely embarrassed for having spent the past few months feeding this menace.

we are gonna have to start claiming his peanut allowance as a business expense for the studio. can you draw or write a script, Norbert? 

naturally, i was feeling betrayed—yet again— by this deceitful month. so, i dyed some yarn... and i kept on dyeing, until i came up with a new favorite! i see falling cherry blossoms and pink and white tulips in bloom. you know... things that normally happen in Spring. 

i am calling this one April in (not) Paris. 

trust me when i say that this one is special. the yarn consists of a cotton mesh tube knitted around a polyamide core. acid dyes (the stuff i use on wool) works on polyamide... but not on cotton. in essence, i dyed the core of the yarn, and left the outer layer the original color. 

i went with the slow immersion technique to achieve a gradient in the color (433 Strawberry Red, which seems to be unavailable at present). i love how different this yarn looks going from wet to dry. 

i dyed 400 grams of this yarn, which should be enough for a garment for self, and i made sure to keep the knot in the center of the lightest section. this is the sort of thing my brand of OCD demands. best of all, it is totally wool free, which means i can wear it with zero allergy concerns.  so... yay, me!!!

now, pardon me while i crank the thermostat back up (as the overnight temperature will be hovering near freezing), and maybe listen to some music for old folks, while i work on a puzzle. see you in May... maybe. 

while garlic watched...

we need to have a talk about my latest culinary obsession. not sure what you are supposed to be looking at? well, allow me to explain. and, worry not... we will get back to these ridiculously tasty scallops in a bit. 

i am struggling to find the right words to describe black garlic to the uninitiated. despite the name, it delivers a culinary influence that is, frankly, something else. tastewise, it is like prunes had sex with fermented black beans ... while garlic watched. that is something else, right?

i am using a single-bulb variety here, but the principle and process is the same for regular (multi-bulb) garlic. in short, there is a whole lot of sugar in garlic, which is usually masked by all the sharp, peppery flavor. when cured at a controlled temperature and humidity, all that sugar is transformed into sticky, gooey goodness. no additives necessary! the process also significantly reduces the sharp, peppery smell and taste, resulting in something with barely a trace of garlic. the end product tastes like a smoothie of extra-dark molasses and miso... at low tide. i did mention that i am struggling to describe this stuff, right?

out of the peel, the cured garlic look like mini dried figs. the root ends reminds me of a black-eyed Susan or a sunflower. 

we had mussels the previous day, and i saved some of the (unapologetically unstrained) jus for this non-special occasion. what occasion you ask? just some random day, when i felt like eating a truly delicious meal. i may have also purchased a tennis-ball-canister full of black garlic, so now it needs to be used.

the scallops were left to drain in the fridge, on a plate lined with paper towels. excess moisture gets in the way of forming a nice toasty sear in the pan, so this is an important step. 

i began by preheating the pan on medium heat. the entire cooking process took about five or six minutes, so it is important to start with the pan ready to go.  i removed the scallops from the fridge, and sprinkled them with Kosher salt, freshly-ground pepper, and a bit of (also freshly-ground) coriander. it is best to season scallops at the last minute, or you risk ruining the texture for all Eternity.  

into the hot pan went a splash of olive oil, and a bit of unsalted butter, swirling to thoroughly coat the bottom. i waited briefly for the distinct smell of toasty, browned butter, before quickly arranging the scallops—seasoned side down—in the pan. then... i just let them sizzle away for about two minutes, occasionally tilting the pan, to encourage even cooking. mostly, i made sure not to disturb that precious bit of real estate below each scallop. 

i get mocked for saying these things, but you can actually hear when that lovely bit of crust has formed. the "sizzle" sounds... different. 

i seasoned the second side right before giving them a flip, carefully and quickly. again, i did  nothing, except continuing to give the pan a few more tilts, and maybe a 'rotate' or two to keep the heat distribution even. 

once it got  to the "sizzle" stage on that second side, in went a dollop of crushed black garlic...

along with the reserved mussel sauce.  

i also turned up the heat to nearly-full-blast. the objective was to reduce the sauce in about a minute or so. i carried on swirling the pan, using the back of the spoon to thoroughly incorporate the crushed garlic into the sauce, and continuously spooning the mixture over the top of the scallops. it was a very busy 'minute or so'.

finally, i removed the pan from the heat, and added a pat of butter to the reduced sauce, swirling and spooning as i went, until it was thoroughly melted. the bits of green are chopped leeks and herbs that were part of the mussel sauce.

not gonna lie... i used to think that chefs on tv were a bit over the top when the added extra butter after stuff was done cooking. but, now... i understand. it really does make for a tastier sauce. 

et voilà... a special (i hope) meal for any ordinary day!

i am absolutely loving all the je ne sais quoi this magic ingredient brings to everything. it is umami on steroids! the following day, i added some to a vegetable and oxtail stew that may have changed my life. there may also be a plan to use it in a 'Singapore black pepper style' snow crab adventure i will be undertaking in a few days. 

oh, yeh... it is snow crab season in Canada! 

and, speaking of seasons... i had my very first butterfly sighting of the season when i got out of bed (technically, yesterday, as it is almost two in the morning). it was a Mourning Cloak, because i know you love these pointless details. i may have squealed with delight for a whole minute. yes... you should be embarrassed for me. that kind of joyful display could ruin my whole brand. 

now, pardon me while i get back to dreaming up more delicious things to make with black garlic. 

mutually assured suffering...

 if i had to describe our lives together, it would be in three phrases. 

encouraging foolishness... because it was with him that i discovered that there is so much joy to be had when you allow yourself to indulge in the ridiculous things in life. 

there is always a story to tell... even in the littlest things.

but, above all else, there is the unending game of mutually assured suffering... because that is how you show you care. 

i was minding my own business, when he made the mistake of asking what i was doing, so i responded with an unsolicited lecture on the botany of nasturtium seeds.

i explained that they usually grow in clusters of three seeds...

but they may not all get pollinated or mature consistently, so you end up with some interesting groupings, which is what i was documenting when he strolled in.

have i mentioned that we are both forever-children? 

he stood there, bored out of his skull, while i went on about Mendelian Genetics... then i saw the look in his eyes. i knew that there was some form of payback to come. he picked up one of the unevenly-matured seed clusters.

him: this reminds me of the movie Basket Case. we should watch Basket Case.

me: or... we should not. that works too.

him: i just listened to your thing, so now it's my turn. we're gonna watch Basket Case.

me: you're gonna make me watch some crappy b-movie... just to get even with me for boring you with tmi about nasturtiums.

him: yep.

me: you're gonna make both of us sit through some uber-cringe movie... because of a handful of seeds. 

him: yep.

so we did. then we followed it up by watching Basket Case 2... and 3... in the same evening. i may have also added a few more British shows with lots of old people to the list of things he will be watching in the Future, when i get subjected to an unsolicited review of the life of Macho Man Randy Savage (or some equally ridiculous thing). then it is my turn to select the method of mutually assured suffering.

how commerce was invented...

this was one of the finished (but never shared) posts i mentioned. i honestly do not recall even writing it, but i am happy that i did. reading it now reminds me of a bit of (wholly unsolicited) advice i received back when i was turning thirty (really wish she was around when i turned forty). it went something like this:

your thirties are when you stop worrying about people around you, and realize that it is okay to own your own crazy. the best part is when you find yourself surrounded by people who are willing to share their crazy with you. you can sit down to laugh and talk together, each person doing their own crazy thing... and that is totally okay. 

--------------------------------------------

there are a few reasons why i make note of so many ridiculous conversations i have with the animator. sometimes it is the absurdity of what passes for adult conversation around here. sometimes it is relevant to whatever nonsense i plan to talk about. but, sometimes it is for purely preemptive purposes. i am just gathering evidence for when i i have to explain to a Judge and Jury that he had it coming. [and, just like that... i will be humming 'Cell Block Tango' for the rest of the night, which always makes him understandably concerned.]  

this time around, the provocation (nice legal term there) involved a series of conversations over three consecutive days. it began when he got off the phone with one of the people working on the series he is directing...

him: that was [beekeeper guy]. he asked if you needed more honey, so i said we were good for now. then he asked if we were using it, and i told him yes. we use it in tea and sometimes in cooking, and that you used some of it in the soap you just made.

me: oh, for fu... what did i tell you about telling people about this stuff? he's gonna think i'm some kind hippie who makes her own soap.

him: he was all excited. he loves that kind of stuff. i told him you'll trade him some of your soap for more honey.

me: great! i'm trading soap for honey. that's one step closer to smelling like patchouli and living in a commune. 

the next day...

him: i was just talking to [another animator]. he asked if we were watching anything for Halloween, so i told him we were doing werewolf movies this year.

me: uhm... ok.

him: he asked if American Werewolf in London was on the list, and i told him it was, but we'll probably skip that one because i've seen it so many times, and you watched it with me a couple times already.

me: ok.

him: then he suggested Ginger Snaps, and i told him that you refuse to watch it because it's about teenagers. i told him that you don't like stuff about teenagers and all their teenage problems and teenage drama. i told him you mostly watch stuff with old people. 

me: what the...?

him: then he joked that you probably like Matlock, so i told him that you do. and Murder She Wrote, and a bunch of British shows with old people, like Last of the Summer Wine and Dad's Army and that sort of stuff. 

me: why??? why are you telling people stuff like this about me. now they think i'm a soap-making hippie who's obsessed with old people. 

him: well... it's true, right?

then i just walked away, before i was overcome by the urge to end him. i wake up a day later, and what is the first thing he says to me?

him: i just forwarded you something that [yet another animator] sent for you. 

me: uhm...?

him: it's about dyeing yarn with mushrooms.

me: seriously... you need to stop having these conversations about me with other people?  

him: are you kidding? he was excited to share this with you. he's all about mushrooms. he goes foraging for them, and he has tons of books all about mushrooms.

me: great. so now they think that i'm a soap-making hippie who dyes yarn with mushrooms while watching shows about old people. good grief!

him: look, you gotta understand that they love that sort of stuff around here. in their eyes, you're amazing.

then he paused briefly before adding...

him: in my eyes... you're insane. 

any. day. now. already got my 'statement to the Court' ready to go and everything. 

me: Your Honor... i betcha you would have done the same!

 and, yes... i traded the beekeeper some of the soap i made (with honey from his hives) for more honey. doesn't everyone have a honey guy?

i did warn him that this was a particularly exfoliating batch, as it included a generous amount of rolled oats. i believe in a good hard scrub in the shower, or why even bother, right? just talking about homemade honey-oat soap here. 

note the difference between the freshly-cut piece (left) and the dried out bit from the edge (right). the drying will continue through the curing process (about two months), resulting in a lighter color overall.

it is hard to tell from this angle, but i made wayyy too much of the stuff. 

i had to take a break and pry my fingers away from the pastry cutter long enough to relax my hand. 

finally, it was done. seriously... what was i (over)thinking when i made this much soap? i am convinced that 'trading overstocked crazy' is how commerce was invented. prove me wrong!